Polarity
by Rampant Poultry
Summary: AU. Two prodigies with opposing objectives plan to navigate Beacon the same way: feign incompetence. Assassin!Ruby. Bodyguard!Jaune. Discontinued.
1. Early to Rise

**Chapter 1**

 _ **Early to Rise**_

 _There are whispers in the underworld. Echoing warnings, spanning race, nationality, and borders, of death given form, of glowing embers and precision cut corpses and burning vindication. The details vary from region to region; Vale says it's a young girl, Atlas an older one. Some think she's driven by vengeance, more think it's sadism, and a few, crazy ones think it's love._

 _It's no surprise the story's a bit fuzzy. The ones that meet her don't usually live to fill in the gaps._

 _They all agree on one thing, though. A little red hood, black clothes, and a bright, silver eyed smile. Half rumor, half legend, she's known as the Little Black Rose._

"They really call me that?" Ruby asked curiously, feet quiet on the abandoned, decaying rooftops of one of Vale's slums. Despite the treacherous slopes, she kept her balance easily. A wide chasm appeared before her, but without hesitation she sprang across it with a burst of speed, landing lightly on the roof opposite.

"Can you believe it?" Weiss grumbled in her ear. As Ruby's handler, her job was a purely supportive role, to relay information to the young assassin from miles away. "What kind of lame nickname is that? It sounds like something from a kid's cartoon."

"I dunno. I kind of like it. It's pretty cool."

"You shouldn't. Cheesiness aside, Cinder's not happy that people even suspect you exist."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Ruby protested.

"If you didn't insist on being so flashy all the time, it could have happened much, much later."

Ruby didn't reply. Weiss complaining was nothing new.

"How's the equipment?" Weiss sighed, realizing that lecturing her partner was a useless effort. "I know it's experimental. Any bugs?"

"Not really," Ruby said. She absently fiddled with one of her earpieces, just a small portion of the boatload of cutting edge tech that Weiss had recently 'requisitioned.' "Most of the time I just forget they're there."

"Good."

"At least until you talk," Ruby teased. "Think you could do less of that?"

"Very funny," Weiss drawled. "As if you could even find the target without me."

Ruby flushed angrily. "You didn't tell me what it is!"

"Because you'd just forget anyways."

"Shouldn't you tell me now?" Ruby said, pointedly ignoring the accusation. She fearlessly leapt off a three story building with a smooth flip, before coming to a soft landing on the pavement below. "I think I'm almost there."

"It's a dust store called _From Dust till Dawn."_ Weiss informed her. "Small shop. Limited security. Continue to the end of the block, then turn left. In about half an hour, Torchwick's going to raid it. Cinder wants him… removed. The method's up to you." Once her favored right hand man, Roman Torchwick, criminal mastermind, had made the foolish decision of double crossing Cinder. Even more unfortunately for him, he wasn't aware that she knew.

Ruby paused in confusion. "Wait, how does this help me assassinate Ozpin?" As one of her last remaining notable political opponents, Cinder despised Beacon's headmaster, enough that she was willing to devote her best agent for years if it meant bringing him down.

Hence Ruby's current predicament.

"I don't know," Weiss complained. "Don't ask me. She comes up with the plans. I just make sure you don't screw them up."

Ruby grimaced. Considering how much the mastermind relied on her, Cinder was remarkably tight fisted with information. "She wanted me to get into Signal, to set up for an inside job, right? Maybe she thinks this is a good opportunity to impress their recruiters?"

"And at the same time she can eliminate a liability," Weiss breathed. "Clever. You're probably right."

"Believe it or not, it _does_ happen once in awhile."

"Awhile might be too generous."

As she approached the end of the block, Ruby noticed the telltale scorched craters of dust explosions pocketing the surrounding buildings. Already dilapidated, some of them now sported gaping wounds so large it was a miracle they were still standing. "These are still fresh," she remarked. "Gangs?"

"This afternoon," Weiss confirmed. "They're gone by now. You're fine."

"As if they'd give me any trouble anyways."

Ruby stepped delicately around a massive crater, idly observing the telltale scarlet stains of blood that crisscrossed it. Ahead of her, a small, glowing sign stretched into the cold night air like an act of lonely defiance. It had once said _From Dust till Dawn_ , but most of the letters had gone out. The remaining ones flickered pathetically, as if mourning the loss of their brethren.

As a small, family owned dust shop, _From Dust till Dawn's_ mere existence was a small miracle. The Vale ghettos were a very dangerous place to run a dust shop, but like all other residents the shopkeeper was likely too desperate to try anything else. Ironically, the constant conflict meant both a booming business and protection. Suppliers were rare in these parts, and anyone who attacked a dust shop usually didn't last long enough to try it again as their opponents mysteriously ended up with larger arsenals. It was an intense, cruel, and unpredictable lifestyle, but far preferable to being forced outside the walls. The Grimm were a more vicious predator than any human or faunus.

The exterior of the shop clearly exhibited the reluctance of the neighboring gangs to bring their conflict to its doors. The walls, while faded and peeling, were untouched by the scars that marred its neighbors, and the doors were automatic and glass, a rare and luxurious combination. The store was comprised of a single room, although respectably sized, all things considered. Display windows provided a view of the shelves of bagged loose dust held within, and in the center of the room. Ruby could see a glass display case containing the larger crystals. All in all, it would be absolutely no match for Roman and his goons, who cared naught for the intricacies of the regional politics.

She strolled into the store, the doors opening before her with a quiet hiss, and she was blasted with a rush of chilled air. Despite the late hour, the seasons had not quite finished transitioning from summer to autumn, and it was still warm outdoors. In contrast, the interior was pleasantly cool.

 _Air conditioning. Surprising._

"This is a Schnee sponsored shop," Weiss breathed in surprise, and now that it had been brought to her attention Ruby saw the telltale Schnee brand subtly engraved on various surfaces. "That explains the dust supply."

"A lot of people want dust around here," Ruby said. "I guess it was a good chance to make money."

Weiss growled. "How far we've fallen, to be willing to fund gang wars in pursuit of profit."

Instead of responding, Ruby waved to the elderly shopkeeper, who had been shooting her suspicious looks, and flashed him a shy smile. After a moment, he decided that the cute, barely over five foot girl was probably not a threat to him and gave her a tired nod before turning back to his work, shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

"I found our guests. They'll be at the shop in five minutes," Weiss said. One of the privileges of being the Schnee heiress was that she had access to the vast network of SDC security cameras, although Ruby suspected there had been foul play involved in order to obtain it. It was an invaluable boon, however, so she never asked.

The trickiest part of the whole affair would be to convince anyone who saw her was that she was a naive but skilled wannabe hero. Her normal modus operandi would be ambush them and kill them all before they could react, but that method wouldn't speak volumes for her character. Since a scythe and sniper rifle were extremely ineffective for non lethal takedowns, that left unarmed combat as her best option.

"You'll be ok, right?" Weiss asked worriedly, having come to the same conclusion.

Ruby snorted. "Duh."

"I'm sorry I asked," Weiss grumbled.

Ruby caught glance of a magazine stand against one of the walls and made her way over. It held a large variety of works, ranging from technical dust journals to common entertainment, but the apparent frivolity of the material stood in stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere of the environment. She selected a weapon's magazine; they were something of a hobby of hers, both for interest in seeing developments in technology and to silently gloat over the fact that the best efforts of well regarded professionals couldn't compare to Crescent Rose in lethality, flexibility, or artistry. The shopkeeper gave her another odd look, but said nothing.

"Good choice," Weiss commented drily.

Ruby shrugged. "What do normal girls read, anyways?"

"No idea," Weiss admitted. "I haven't exactly had the most normal of childhoods."

Ruby hummed in agreement. Neither of them said any more, each lost in their own thoughts.

Weiss broke the silence first. "They're here. Four goons and Roman. The goons don't have aura. Roman has his cane."

Before Ruby had a chance to respond, the sliding doors swished open, revealing the aforementioned men. Ruby snuck a quick peek before they spotted her. They certainly looked intimidating: the ring leader with his pristine white suit and arrogant, condescending smile, surrounded by tall, menacing hulks with sinister red shades.

They could probably last ten seconds against her, tops. She turned back to her magazine, content to play innocent schoolgirl until the appropriate moment to transition into idealistic vigilante arrived.

It didn't take long. Ruby could make out the murmurs of intimidation as Roman bullied the shopkeeper into giving up his dust supplies, and although individual words eluded her the general tone of voice made it clear that the elderly man would not put up any resistance. Rustles of movement flared up a short time after as the goons began to ransack the store.

Weiss let out a dry chuckle. "One of them finally spotted you. I know you'll get carried away, but do try not to maim them."

 _Come on, Weiss. I'm not_ that _bad._

"Alright kid, put your hands where I can see them," the goon said, and judging from the proximity of his voice he was only a few feet behind her. Ruby suppressed a snicker.

 _Are you_ trying _to act like a stereotypical cheesy villain?_

"Hey, I said hands in the air!" the man continued angrily. She ignored him again. Her aura would stop any attacks from behind, and she would prefer the goons to be grouped so she could eliminate them smoothly. Sure enough, two of them began walking over, attracted by the noise, leaving the last one to finish collecting the dust while Roman threatened the shopkeeper.

"You got a death wish or something?!" the goon snapped, and grabbed her shoulder, giving her the excuse to finally turn around. By this point, all three goons were practically lined up.

"Yes?" She asked innocently, pretending that she had only just heard him.

"Put your hands in the air!" the goon exploded.

"Are you robbing me?" Ruby asked, silver eyes wide.

"Gold star," Weiss deadpanned. "Great acting."

"Yes!" the goon said, exasperated.

"Oooh," Ruby said. The goon barely caught a glimpse of a smirk before she exploded into action.

She lashed out with a spinning jump kick that connected with the goon's chest before he could react. She felt a sickening crunch as something gave way beneath her foot, and the goon flew through air, shattering one of the windows with a cacophony of broken glass before skidding to a halt on the street.

 _Oops. Too much._

The world blurred around her as she darted forward with semblance enhanced speed. She dropped one goon with a rapid fire series of crippling blows, taking care to avoid potentially fatal injuries this time, then knocked out the third with a fluid uppercut to the chin. Managing the power behind her attacks when she was moving too fast for the untrained eye to follow was a daunting prospect, but she was Ruby Rose, one of the most promising fighters of her generation, and she adapted quickly.

 _Better._

To his credit, Roman recovered rapidly. Three of his men had been dispatched in less than a second, but his cane spat the brilliant red gleam of a fire crystal, and Ruby threw herself out of the way as it erupted into a blazing pillar of white hot flame. She felt a spike of pain even though her lightning reflexes had saved her from the brunt of the attack, but her aura saved her from serious harm.

 _Two to go._

The fourth goon fumbled for his weapon, bewildered by the unexpected assault that had swept over his comrades. Ruby hurled the sheathed Crescent Rose at him. The unorthodox missile struck him, and he dropped like his legs had been cut from underneath him. She heard a subtle clink behind her and darted away with a burst of speed from her semblance as another crystal detonated, this time in a cascade of razor sharp ice shards.

As suddenly as it had begun, there was a lull in the fight. Roman glared at her, face distorted in betrayed fury, cane leveled at her face. He didn't bother firing. Both of them knew he wouldn't hit.

"What are you doing, Red?" Roman growled. "Are you out of your mind? We're kind of _on the same side."_

Ruby smirked at him. "Not anymore."

Roman gaped at her. "You've gone rogue? Are you nuts? She'll tear you apart!"

Ruby's smirk widened.

"No, no," Roman muttered. "There's no way her prized dog would turn on her. She had to have sent you here, but she personally told me to-"

His eyes widened in horror. "She set me up."

"Yep," Ruby confirmed cheerily. "Betrayal wasn't a good idea, Torchwick."

"Hey, come on now," Roman scoffed. "Betrayal is such an exaggeration. I just took a bit of dust, that's all. I've done good work for little miss spitfire. Think of it as a professional fee."

"And think of this as debt collection." Ruby countered, before throwing herself at him, a typhoon of black and red.

Roman was one of the most devious criminal minds in Remnant, although his genuine fear of Cinder kept him on a tight leash. He was also a decent combatant, a product of several near shaves with law enforcement and black market dealings gone wrong. Even so, he was absolutely no match for a prodigal duelist with years of hellish training under her belt.

The fight was almost comical. He had a good plan, in theory: keep Ruby at bay, ideally with the superior reach of his cane, until he could catch her off guard with an elemental blast. His crystals were top of the line, easy capable of crippling or killing even a powerful huntress in a single shot, aura or no.

He never got the chance. Ruby took him apart, precise, efficient movements backed by bursts of her semblance countered his attacks as soon as they happened. He swung, and his cane whistled through air uselessly as a slight twist of her body moved her out of harm's way. Then the blows came. One, two, three, four, hands, feet, elbows, knees, an unstoppable machine in the guise of a girl. His aura faltered, and he flailed wildly in panic, to no avail. After only a few seconds, one of her blows left him flat on his back, gasping for breath on the ground.

"Sorry, Roman," Ruby said innocently, and the smirk that had adorned her face for the entire fight fell off her face, replaced by a facsimile of sympathy. In the distance, the wailing of police sirens signaled his inevitable arrest.

"You're going to pay, Red," Roman snarled venomously. "I swear, somehow, someway, I'm going to pay you back."

Ruby answered him with a vicious kick to the head. "Pay Cinder back first," she said with mocking seriousness. "I think you owe her quite a bit."

"Step one down, at least," Weiss commented. "Hopefully you've been sufficiently impressive."

"Aww, come on," Ruby said as the wail of the approaching sirens reached deafening levels. "After a performance like that, who _wouldn't_ want me?"

::-::-::-::-::-::

 **A/N** : Thanks for reading. Please review!

This is a rewrite of chapter one, so if you read the first version and were confused, now you know why.

Pretty sure I mention it in a later author's note (the joys of rewriting), but as you've probably figured out some character personalities have been modified. Hopefully they're reasonable within the events of the story, while still retaining the core of who they were in canon.


	2. The Best-Laid Plans

**Chapter 2**

 _ **The Best-Laid Plans**_

Ruby wasn't exactly sure what proper protocol for thanking heroic huntresses for apprehending international criminals was, but she was pretty sure locking them in an interrogation room wasn't involved.

She squinted against the blinding white light directly above her, barely able to make out the vague form of the interrogator pacing threatening circles around the table at which Ruby was seated. "Glynda Goodwitch, Beacon academy professor," was the only introduction Ruby had been offered before being subjected to the most violent tirade of a lecture she'd witnessed in her admittedly short fifteen years of experience.

"I hope you know," Weiss tittered, "that I'm enjoying every second of this."

Her earbuds and mic were state-of-the-art tech: miniature, extremely durable, and nearly impossible to notice at a glance. While this made them invaluable for the vast majority of situations that Ruby found herself in, it also meant that they went tragically undetected when she was brought in.

 _I need to investigate the possibility of a mute function._

Her interrogator finally ceased pacing, instead opting to plant her hands on the table and lean towards Ruby menacingly, finally giving the girl a clear look at her face. Her most dominating features were piercing green eyes, the severity of which was emphasized by the small spectacles that framed them. Short blonde hair and grim-set lips completed the impression of a stern disciplinarian, and one who was clearly not finished with chewing out the girl before her.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, young lady?" Glynda hissed, face only inches from Ruby's. The small girl shrunk back.

 _Well, I've stopped a robbery and apprehended an internationally wanted criminal. How about you?_

"Stopped a robbery?" Ruby replied meekly. _The things I do to get into schools._

"Stopped a robbery?" Glynda echoed incredulously. "Stopping a robbery, Miss Rose, would have been calling the police. No, no, what you performed was nothing short of unrestrained brutality on auraless men!"

 _Ok, not going as planned._

"Do you know where those men are? What you've done to them? All of them are in the hospital, undergoing intensive care. The doctors suspect one of them will _die,_ miss Rose."

 _Probably the first one. I knew I hit him too hard._

"There is a _reason_ , Miss Rose, that huntresses are meant to fight the _Grimm_ ," Glynda continued ruthlessly, unaware of Ruby's internal quips. "Your aura bears a heavy responsibility, and your conduct tonight speaks very poorly of your ability to handle it. Were you one of my students, I would have you immediately expelled for severe lack of discipline."

"But they started it!" Ruby protested, voice tinged with just the appropriate amount of indignation.

"And you could have stopped it _responsibly_ , without resorting to unrestrained vigilantism!" Glynda roared. "Those men were _auraless_ , Miss Rose! They stood as much chance against you as a mouse against a cat. While your subduing of Roman Torchwick was skillfully handled, you have demonstrated a dangerous disregard for the value of human life!"

An uncomfortable silence dominated the wake left by Glynda's rampage. Ruby's mind operated in overdrive, trying to come up with something, _anything_ to say that could still salvage her chances of getting into Signal. Uncharacteristically, nothing came to her.

"I'm sorry," Ruby finally said. The lie slipped smoothly from her lips, supported by the perfect undertone of timid shame. "I just wanted to help."

Glynda leaned back, and the inferno in her eyes diminished to a low burn. "Intention does not make right, Miss Rose. Nonetheless, I appreciate the sentiment."

She turned and opened the door. It slid into place silently.

"You've heard my piece," she sighed. "Were it up to me, there would be repercussions for your actions tonight, but someone else has other plans."

A man walked into the room, and Ruby's heart skipped a beat. He was tall, so tall that he had to stoop under the low door frame, with a head of medium length grey hair and a pair of spectacles that gave him a very academic appearance. Ruby recognized him instantly.

Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon.

It was frustrating, being so close to her mark and unable to act. All she had to do was reach out and she could practically touch him, but there was no way she could take both him and Glynda on and win. She was a devastating force, but both of them were very experienced hunters, and incompetent people didn't live long enough to claim that title.

"Hello, Miss Rose." Ozpin's voice was deep and soothing, almost slow, but just the sound inspired respect and attention.

"I've contacted Cinder," Weiss informed her in a whisper. "She's assembling whatever forces she can, but I don't think it'll be much. Assume you're on your own."

 _Guess I'll have to play along._

"Hi," Ruby responded nervously.

"Do you know who I am?" the headmaster asked, pulling up a seat directly opposite her.

 _Somebody I really want dead_.

"You're the headmaster," Ruby said. "Of Beacon."

"Indeed," Ozpin affirmed. He leaned in slightly, and Ruby reflexively shied away from him, intimidated by the scrutiny of his gaze.

"You have silver eyes," Ozpin mused, half to himself. "And a unique family name."

Ruby felt a thrill of uncertainty course through her.

 _Why the random comments? Is he probing my reaction? Or is he subtly telling me he knew my mother? What should I do? He hasn't really given me anything I need to react to. Just wait for more?_

She looked back at him with uncertain discomfort, a reaction that required no acting: she _was_ unnerved.

Weiss let out an irritated hiss. Ruby barely restrained a startled jump. It wouldn't do to make the two Beacon professors even more suspicious.

"Adam refuses to commit the White Fang. He's calling it a waste of life and resources. You're completely on your own," Weiss growled.

Which was unfortunate, because Ruby had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to act. Luckily for her, Ozpin steered their conversation into more easily navigated grounds. He motioned to Glynda, who gave him a scroll that he promptly revealed to Ruby. The screen played a repeating loop of her fight with Roman and his goons, and now that she saw herself from a third person perspective, Ruby had to fight back a wince. Glynda was right to have been so hard on her; despite the fact that she had fought unarmed, the barely restrained lethality with which she moved spoke of long experience in killing. Forget getting into Signal, she would be lucky if she didn't prompt an investigation into her past. Weiss's forged documents were good, but neither of them wanted to find out how they would handle strict scrutiny.

 _I shoulda held back more,_ Ruby thought ruefully.

"And how did such an adorable girl learn to fight like this?" Ozpin asked, and Ruby heard the subtle accusation, even though his tone was neutral: _Why do you feel so dangerous?_

"My uncle taught me," Ruby said cheerfully, deliberately misunderstanding the headmaster's question. "I was complete garbage before he took me under his wing, but now I'm all like hwaachaaaaaaa!"

Her words were partially true. Uncle Qrow had been a tough, extremely effective teacher, but he had only taught her how to use her scythe, and with the expectation that she would become a huntress who used her skills for good. Unbidden, the image of her other teacher jumped to mind: a small frame and sadistic smile, casually twirling a parasol as she ruthlessly beat the incompetence out of her student, mercilessly ignoring the pained cries of the young child.

"Indeed?" Ozpin said, and Ruby wondered if he had detected the half-truth. He was an opaque man, and she was having a terrible time trying to read him. "And why did you choose to learn from such a dusty old bird?"

 _So he knows uncle Qrow. No surprise there._

"I want to become a huntress," Ruby said seriously. _I want power._ "I want to do good, to help people." _There's so much evil unseen in the shadows while the world watches the Grimm._

"Besides," she gushed, and the words are ashes on her tongue. "Being a huntress is just so _cool!_ I mean, the police are good, and there's plenty of ways to help people, but they're not so _romantic!_ "

 _I will cleanse the rot that took my mother._

"I see," Ozpin said. He cast a sidelong look at Glynda, who huffed in resignation and looked away. "Then I have a proposition for you, Miss Rose."

"Yes?" Ruby said, and she felt a faint hope blossom. Against all odds, had she managed to make it?

"How would you like to be a student at Beacon this semester?"

 _No. No no no no._

"Beacon?" Ruby responded weakly. "Not Signal? Aren't I too young?"

If she went to Beacon, all eyes would be on her as the young prodigy who got in three years early. She needed time to build trust with Ozpin and establish a support base, not have the attention of an entire academy!

"You've demonstrated skill that is more than sufficient for Beacon," Ozpin said, and for a moment Ruby thought she saw a steely glint in his eyes. "I'm sure you'll find that you fit in."

"You'd really take me?" Ruby stammered, eyes wide.

Accepting was crazy, foolish even. But if she turned it down, there was almost no chance she would make it in any other way.

Ozpin smiled. It was a gentle smile. "It would be a pleasure to have you, Miss Rose."

Checkmate.

"In that case, I'd love to."

All lies.

::-::-::-::-::-::

"Again."

His shoulders and legs burned with exertion, sweat ran down his face in stinging rivulets, and his breath tore itself from his chest in agonized, shaky gasps, but Jaune Arc did not complain. He knew better. An Arc did not complain; it was beneath him. Instead, he obeyed.

"Yes sir," his mouth instinctively reacted.

How long had he been going? Four hours? More? Six? Eight? The sky had still been a sleepy shade of pale pink and orange when he had awoken, but in the constantly shifting light of the Arc family training room it was impossible to tell the passage of time.

Around him, machinery whirred as training dummies lumbered into place once more. Makeshift walls slid around him, yanked by unseen hands, and the lights dimmed one by one until only a few remained, feeble beams of illumination in the oppressive gloom. When, at last, the mechanical puppeteers had finished their craft, Jaune found himself in a wide, makeshift clearing, barely illuminated in a murky facsimile of twilight.

Another dummy moved behind him. Where its peers were made of wood and metal, durable materials meant to strike and be struck, this one was floppy and delicate, a patchwork collection of cloth and string. Any blows it took would be readily apparent: cruel scythes in overripe grain. This one represented the mark.

Killing others was easy. Protecting oneself only marginally less so. The real difficulty of combat came in protecting the weak, the panicked, the clueless. Every Arc understood this truth.

"Are you prepared?" the steely voice of his father rang out. The question was a formality. He cared not whether or not his son was prepared. Neither would an assassin.

"I am," Jaune intoned.

"Then do honor to your name."

The words still rang through the chamber when the dummies sprang to life.

Half a dozen of them moved as one, charging forward in an ungainly float, brandishing the wooden mock ups of weapons. Behind him, the mark fled, a simulation of the panic that often gripped the untrained. Jaune kept pace cooly, shield braced in preparation as he backpedaled. A wooden arrow flew at him from the darkness, then another. He deflected them with his shield, heedless of the vibrating ring that traveled through his arm. The mark finally stopped, trapped by the edge of the clearing, and Jaune stood in front of it, an implacable gargoyle in the face of the tide.

The mob reached him. Jaune did not care.

He moved with methodical efficiency, blocking a blow from a wooden sword and striking the dummy on the head at nearly the same time. It withdrew, sensors registering the hit as lethal. The others crowded around, some rushing at him, others at the mark. He prioritized the latter, dispatching them with clean, powerful blows from his training sword or smashing them away with his shield if they got too close. He took a few hits, but such a fact was meaningless. He had aura. No Arc would fall from a few measly attacks.

More dummies had gathered into a second attack wave as Jaune finished off the first, and they hit him before he had a chance to catch his breathe. Despite his exhaustion, Jaune kept his motions tight, exerting no more energy than was strictly needed. One, two, three, four, his blows fell in meditative rhythm, a song of stability in a fray of chaos. His eyes scanned watchfully for the sneak attack that would inevitably attempt to brush it's way past him, and a faint glint of metal in the dim light revealed the stealth of a dummy that had broken away from the pack.

It did not reach its target.

And then it was over, his foes broken before him, and where lesser men may have felt pride Jaune surveyed his handiwork with cool acceptance.

"Well done. You are a credit to this family."

He turned to face his father. A steely, unflappable man, Sebastian Arc was a man who had seen much and lived through all of it. Grim blue eyes and a face dominated by hard lines drew attention away from a perpetual limp, a memento of a mission gone bad.

Jaune shoved aside his weariness, forcing his body into ramrod attention. "A shield to the helpless."

"And a sword to the wicked," his father completed the family motto. "We must end your training for today. I have received word that a distinguished guest desires to speak with you. Make yourself presentable and show yourself to the parlor within an hour."

Jaune bowed. "By your command."

Cleaning himself up was a simple affair. A quick shower was all he really needed. The hardest part was determining the clothing he would wear. His father had not mentioned who he would be meeting with, likely a deliberate test of his ability to prepare for many possible situations. Eventually, he decided on an Atlas academy uniform. Formal enough to be suitable for all occasions, and it would emphasize both his youth and subtly suggest the power and discipline he held as a member of the Atlesian elite. After a few minutes to ensure his appearance was up to his father's strict standards, Jaune realized that he still had half an hour left. Since his father would likely appreciate the time to suitably greet the guest, he settled down to wait, only leaving for the parlor when three minutes remained.

The Arc family parlor was unquestionably the most comfortable part of their home, but even then it shared the same sense of spartan functionality that characterized the rest of the household. It was an open, well lit room with large windows and muted curtains, but sparsely decorated, with only a heavy wooden table and a small vase with a few flowers. Sturdy but relatively comfortable chairs surrounded the table, one of which was occupied by his father. Another was occupied by their guest. She rose to her feet when he approached.

She was a tall woman; Jaune was six feet tall himself, but she beat him in height by an inch or two. Her movement was precise and controlled, and her eyes were sharp and focused. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun. This was a woman, Jaune was sure, that his father would approve of, a woman to whom discipline came as easily as breathing. He bowed towards her, making sure the movement was crisp and from his waist. She nodded to him in response, then held out her hand towards him. He grasped it.

"A pleasure, madam. I am Jaune, first son and third child of Sebastian Arc."

She offered him a faint smile in response. "Hello, Jaune. I am Glynda Goodwitch, professor at Beacon Academy. Your father speaks very highly of you."

Her words surprised him. Beacon? Wasn't that in Vale? Why would a Beacon professor be visiting an Atlesian family?

"Beacon is in Vale, is it not? How was your journey?" Jaune said. He glanced at his father from the corner of his eye, but the man remained as distant as ever. At least he wasn't cringing.

"Uneventful, thank you. Your Armada does an impressive job keeping airborne Grimm at bay. I made it here in only a few hours."

"I'm glad to hear we were of service," Jaune said politely. Idly he noticed a teapot and two empty cups on the table. His father had already offered refreshments, then. Glynda motioned towards a chair, and Jaune took a seat next to his father. She followed suit by taking a seat in her own chair.

"What brings you out to Atlas, madam?" Jaune said when they were both settled, taking care to ensure his tone was politely neutral, void of any subtle accusations.

"I have need of a young hunter with great skill, and the Arc name is highly regarded." Glynda responded, and Jaune could sense her faint approval of his conduct. "Your father assures me your skills are sufficient, should you be inclined to accept."

That the request fell to him caught Jaune by surprise. At 18 years old, it was only a matter of time before he was assigned missions, but a Beacon professor? That was a very high profile client. He glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye, but the man gave no hint. Surely one of his older sisters would have been selected instead…

Unless they were _too_ old.

"Does this have to do with Beacon?" he asked.

Glynda nodded slowly. "Essentially. I suspect Headmaster Ozpin is in danger this semester. I think a bodyguard is a wise investment, but he's a stubborn man. He is unwilling to entertain the idea."

"But a bodyguard posing as a student could go unnoticed," Jaune finished. Glynda did not respond, instead choosing to eye him appraisingly.

"It is a very difficult assignment," she finally said. "Far more than a normal bodyguard. While going unnoticed is not necessary; it is very important you go unsuspected. The manner in which you achieve that is ultimately your choice, although you would of course have my support."

"Would Beacon even accept me?" Jaune asked.

"I'm in charge of admissions. Most of the time, anyways," Glynda said with a dangerous grimace. "It won't be a problem."

"How long will you require my services?"

Glynda shook her head. "I'm not sure. I think many of the political battles that make the Headmaster a threat will conclude by the end of the year. You will likely not be needed longer, but I make no promises."

Jaune looked at his father for confirmation. He received a silent stare in response. The choice was his.

"You are familiar with my family's rates and policies?" he asked to stall for time.

"I am. Your father and I spoke at length. Suffice to say there are enough people interested in the headmaster's well being that money will not be an issue."

Jaune could find nothing wrong with what the professor was proposing. In fact, he should be honored that such a high profile client was his first. Even so, a part of him wished that he could have taken time building his skills and confidence. He felt a flash of uncertainty, but quickly slapped it down. Such emotions had no place in an Arc.

"Then I see no reason to refuse. It will be an honor to work with you, madam."

Arc or not, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he wasn't ready for this.

::-::-::-::-::-::

 **A/N** : Wow. I'm really blown away by chapter one's reception. Thanks to everyone who favorited and followed, and extra thanks to those who reviewed!

Polarity will (very) loosely follow canon until initiation. After that, everything's fair game.

As you've probably figured out by now, character personalities may vary wildly from canon, although I try to keep it logical within the grounds of the AU.

As always, I'm very open to feedback and constructive criticism. Please let me know what you think!


	3. A House Divided

**Chapter 3**

 _ **A House Divided**_

Ruby strolled down the wide streets of one of Vale's residential districts, away from her borderline disastrous encounter with Headmaster Ozpin. Normally she would take quicker, shadier paths, but with the amount of suspicion she had generated she was willing to bet a hefty sum of lien that they were watching her. It was well into the night by now, and chilly. The streets were abandoned, and her only company were the looming shadows that Vale's street lamps cast whenever she crossed underneath them.

Weiss had been unusually quiet, and after a couple silent minutes Ruby decided to break the ice.

"Ok, I admit it. Thaaat coulda gone better."

Weiss sighed. "I should be used to it, after all these years of working with you."

"At least I got in?" Ruby offered hopefully.

Weiss didn't respond.

Ruby cast furtive glances at the surrounding buildings as she walked. The openness of the streets, combined with the utter lack of other people, was unnerving. Urban apartment complexes rose above her, rooms packed together in orderly blocks, and in the shadows cast by uneven lighting they were like faces that tracked her every move with judgemental eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that the moment she let her guard down someone or something would strike.

 _Calm down. If Ozpin sees you slinking about like a spooked wolf it's only going to make things worse._

She couldn't calm down. Weiss's silence wasn't helping.

"Weiss?" she said, voice small, desperate for anything to distract her from the creeping twitchiness that was overtaking her.

"Just thinking," Weiss said. "About our next steps."

Ruby smiled ruefully, although Weiss couldn't see it. "Any plans? Hope they're better than mine. Haven't exactly had a great record recently."

A slight pause. When Weiss spoke again, her words were carefully measured.

"I'm going to try to apply to Beacon. My skills easily meet their standards, and even though it's late for an application a Schnee heiress should be appealing enough that they'd be willing to take me."

"Sounds great," Ruby said after mulling over it for a few seconds. "It would be nice to have support."

Another pause.

"You're not going to like the rest of it." Weiss said softly. "I think you need to go home. Lie low for a while."

Ruby stiffened. Her steps gradually slowed, until she was standing still, a small girl in an abandoned street. The street lamps twinkled above her, but somewhere in the darkness where their light did not shine a cicada chirped a small, lonesome song.

"Why?" Ruby finally asked, her reluctance bleeding through her tone.

"The documents I forged claim you've been homeschooled for the past years," Weiss defended. "You're almost certainly being watched now, and if you don't go back the discrepancy will draw investigation."

Ruby said nothing, but Weiss knew her partner was grasping for any excuse.

The heiress almost felt bad. Ruby was an absolute pain to work with, but they were still partners, and- well, nobody would want to go back to that place.

"I'm sorry," Weiss whispered. "There's no way around it. I know what it's like, but-"

" _Don't_ ," Ruby snapped.

"I just- just, well, sympathize, at least a little-"

"I said _don't!_ "

"I'm _trying_ to be nice," Weiss cried, finally losing her temper. "But if you're going to be a child about it either way then I won't waste my breath. _Go. Home."_

" _Fine,_ " Ruby growled. "Fine!" and with a wordless snarl, she ripped the earbuds and mic off, ignoring the flare of pain as the adhesive only reluctantly relinquished contact with her skin, and although she knew it was petty she unceremoniously stuffed them into the pouch at her waist.

She moved again, closer to a run this time, but after a scant few minutes the silence pressed in on her, a giant, clinging weight. Her feet pounded the pavement with increasing tempo until the world whizzed by in a blur, but no matter her speed the buildings watched her, silently criticizing.

She ran, and ran, and ran, but never fast enough.

::-::-::-::-::-::

The island of Patch was half a mile off of Vale's coast, and typically transportation between the two locations was handled by a highly efficient network of Bullheads. There was an ancient, albeit stable, bridge, but the risk of Grimm attacks typically dissuaded travel by that path.

This did not matter to a furious huntress.

It was a long distance to sprint, however, semblance enhanced speed or no, and by the time she reached her destination Ruby was panting with exertion. She took a moment to recover, gazing at the house in front of her forlornly.

 _Maybe running faster was a bad idea._

The outside of the house looked clean enough. A whitewashed suburban home, fitting snugly into a frame of short wooden fence and a quaint garden. For a moment, Ruby saw it as she distantly remembered it: warm and welcoming, basking in the bright glow of the mid afternoon sun, accompanied by the faint aroma of baking cookies. Most poignant of all, however, was the fleeting impression of a nurturing embrace and loving whispers. She almost reached out, called out, but in a flash the moment passed, and she was once again alone, the cold night air burning her exposed face. With a deep breath, she turned the doorknob, and as she expected the door swung open with a small creak.

The sight of the living room was her first greeting, and contrary to the well maintained exterior signs of disrepair were visible even in the darkness. Spider webs hung thick in the corners, and the carpet bore a series of dark stains that she couldn't remember being there before. There was a piano to the side, but a grey layer of grime marked it as suffering a long period of disuse. The room's limited furniture was fraying badly, and there was no sign of an attempt to repair the damage.

 _Home sweet home._

Ruby continued on, feet like lead weights as she made her way into the kitchen. Despite the time, a faint glow suggested that the home's other occupant was still awake, and when she got a clear look at the kitchen table she saw him, hunched over, face in hands, surrounded by piles and piles of bottles. The stench of alcohol was suffocating, and Ruby was sure that she was looking at the product of weeks, if not months, of drinking.

She took a deep, haltering breath. "Hi, dad."

He turned around. Taiyang Xiao Long had been a handsome man, once upon a time, and despite the stink of alcohol on his breath and the deep red puffiness around his eyes his face still showed traces of what he had once been. Bright golden hair, trimmed to a business cut, and a well kept beard were evidence that he made an effort to put on appearances, at least during the day, and in the dim lighting Ruby could almost fool herself into seeing him as she once did: tall, strong, solid, loving, with an easy smile and a deep, comforting rumble in his voice.

"Ruby?" he slurred, and the memories shattered before her. "That you?"

"Yeah," Ruby said softly. Her hands fiddled with her skirt, and she couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, it's me."

"Haven't seen you in a while," Taiyang mumbled. "Thought maybe you uh, uh, went and died or somethin'. Glad to see you ain't. Dead, that is."

Ruby said nothing, unable to force words past the tightening in her throat.

"So where you been? What's going on for you?" Taiyang continued obliviously.

"Well, um, I got into Beacon," Ruby responded, pointedly ignoring the first part of the question.

Taiyang looked at her quizzically. "Beacon? Don't you have to be eighteen to go to Beacon? You eighteen?"

Ruby flinched away instinctively. "No, dad," she whispered. "I'm fifteen. I got in early."

"What? Fifteen now?" Taiyang said in drunken surprise. "Thought you were twelve."

She laughed hollowly. "Haven't been for a while."

"Apparently." He eyed her suspiciously. "Weren't you at Signal? Qrow said you were. How did you get into Beacon? You didn't cheat, did you?" The questions came hard and fast, as if he didn't expect a detailed answer.

Despite herself, Ruby felt a stab of hurt. "Of course not."

"Good," he said absently.

Another silence dragged on. Ruby shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, eyes still downcast.

"Why're you here?" Taiyang eventually said. "No class?"

"Not for a week."

"I see." Taiyang said, oblivious to his daughter dodging the dangerous portions of his questions. "Staying the night? Your room's still there. Haven't touched it."

"Alright. Thanks." Ruby murmured, unsure of what else to say.

Taiyang grunted in response. "Should sleep. It's late for kiddos."

Ruby finally met his eyes. He was looking straight at her, and she shied away from the intensity of his gaze. Pain permeated his expression, hidden behind a craggy exterior of gruffness, and in a fleeting thought Ruby wondered if he felt regret about- about everything. "Ok," she said. "Good night."

Ruby fled from the kitchen, a photograph of her mother caught her attention from its place above the stairwell, and with her father now out of sight she slowed to scrutinize it. The picture was heavily faded with age, but Summer Rose's gentle smile and bright silver eyes shone through. She'd seen it before; it had been one of her favorites as a child, but now that she was older one specific fact dominated her awareness.

 _I look just like her._

Faintly, she heard the sounds of muffled sobbing from the kitchen. Her heart thumped a dull, dragging beat, and she turned from the picture, her mom's knowing gaze burning into her back.

Her room lay upstairs, down the hall, third door on the left. As she went up the stairs one of the steps creaked violently, causing her to twitch in surprise. On a whim, she turned to the left one room before her own, entering into a space she had not seen in a long time.

Yang's room.

Taiyang had clearly not made an effort to maintain the room. It was exactly as Ruby remembered it: a child's bed in the corner and a half full bookshelf on the opposite wall, with little else. The room stank with an overpowering musty staleness, and Ruby felt like she was choking on bitter granules of filth with every breath. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust- the mundane kind. One anomaly caught her eye, however, and she made her way over to the bookshelf.

 _Is it still there?_

On the second shelf from the bottom sat a piece of paper, yellow with age. A cartoonish drawing of a wolf was inscribed on it in the misproportioned scrawl of a child old enough to begin to understand drawing but too young to have developed real skill. As she gazed at it, Ruby was assaulted by memory, more an impression than factual recollection, of a desperate bewilderment: a young girl wondering that if she was really, really good maybe, just maybe, her older sister would come back. That maybe a present would work, because didn't everyone love presents?

Yet here it was, undisturbed for years, and combined with the room's disrepair it was obvious Yang had never returned, not even briefly. Ruby turned away, wondering what had compelled her to check.

Her own room was in slightly better shape; it had only been a year or two since her last visit, although that had only been for a night, to get some rest on a mission in Patch. And before that, how long? She sat on her bed, too drained to do much more than dust it off feebly.

 _Come on Ruby, get it together. It's just for a week._

The words echoed emptily in her thoughts. She tried to smirk, to fall into the tough, competent persona that had been her frequent companion in recent times, but it was fake, feeble, she knew it was, and it fell off her face like an oil slick.

Unsure of what else to do, she got ready for bed, but sleep evaded her, sucked away by the keen ache in her heart.

::-::-::-::-::-::

 **A/N:**

Many thanks to those who left reviews last chapter. I found them immensely encouraging and motivating. Response to this story has been far beyond what I expected, and I'm very grateful.

There's some symbolism and implications in this chapter that I deliberately left unstated, although perhaps some of you may find it too obvious. Anyways, all that just to say that the narration is influenced by the character's point of view, and you're going to need to do some interpretation to get the full picture.

Sorry to those of you who wanted Jaune. There's way more of him coming: Beacon's up next. (The chapters will probably start getting longer too)

Also sorry for the short chapter. I was extremely dissatisfied with the quality of chapter one, so I rewrote it, which took time I would have spent on new stuff.

Reviews are love. Let me know what you think, good or bad, like or hate.


	4. Into the Fire

**Chapter 4**

 _ **Into the Fire**_

Mere hours after he departed, Jaune found himself locked in mortal combat with his lifelong nemesis: a foe with whom he had grappled since infancy and who now reared its gaping maw to consume him in throes of agony.

Air sickness.

 _Only a few more hours,_ he thought, a touch of desperation darkening his words.

Another roiling wave of nausea tore through him, and Jaune fought with himself, drawing on years of iron discipline to bend his suffering body to his will. He was an Arc, and an Arc was expected to master himself in all circumstances, even in his greatest weakness. After a few minutes, the worst of it left him, and although he still felt sick he was now at least capable of semi coherent thought.

The interior of the Atlesian Bullhead in which he was traveling left him little to take his mind off of his discomfort. It was clearly a military vessel; the hull was dull grey, and the only breaks in the unending pattern of metal plates were narrow window slits, barely enough to see out of. Not that he really wanted to. It'd just make the air sickness worse.

Instead, he turned his mind towards the documents that Professor Goodwitch had sent him a week ago, documents that he had spent the time since studying in great detail. They covered an enormous amount of information, from architectural plans to Beacon's history to the upcoming academic year, but while they were important Jaune knew that the biggest threat to Headmaster Ozpin would come from the people he allowed close. The architectural and security plans he had pored over were admirably thorough, and he doubted anything more than a concentrated assault could breach the school's defenses. No, if the Headmaster suffered an attack, it would be an inside job.

In that regard, Beacon was an absolute disaster.

Students came from all corners of Remnant; many of them had shady pasts or worrying psychological profiles, and by nature of their roles as huntsmen all of them were easily capable of killing very, very quickly. Worse, only rudimentary background checks had been conducted, leaving Jaune to wonder how a major tragedy, whether accidental or deliberate, hadn't already occurred. There also were several events a year that would involve exchange students or visitors, most notably the Vytal Festival, and much to his dismay Jaune realized that they would be housed within the Beacon main campus. It was a horrific security risk, although hopefully the Headmaster had the good sense to requisition additional security detail during those times.

As if a whole school of hormonal superpowered killers in training wasn't bad enough, Jaune wasn't convinced their professors were any better. Professor Goodwitch claimed the faculty could be trusted, but all of them had black marks on their records: Professor Port for multiple cases of excessive collateral damage on missions, and Professor Oobleck for possession of Grimm related contraband. The other faculty bore similar records of disgrace, almost as if it had been a criteria. For that matter, Jaune wasn't even certain that Professor Goodwitch was trustworthy, but she was the client, and as such she deserved his loyalty. Nothing less was expected of an Arc.

He'd already memorized the key information for every student attending Beacon for the semester, and would be putting a great portion of his initial time towards scouting them out. His most pressing problem at the moment, however, was to establish the character he would live out during his school days. For all the effort he'd put into studying other people he had spent very little developing his identity. Professor Goodwitch wanted him unsuspected, both to increase his ability to discover unknown threats and to keep the Headmaster at ease, but she had left the intricacies of accomplishing that up to him. His only regret was that in a moment of thoughtlessness, she had registered him under his true name. The Arc name was near synonymous with bodyguards, and it wasn't impossible that someone would recognize and suspect him as a result. Perhaps it had been unavoidable, what with all the legal documents that enrolling him would entail.

Regardless, he had to decide on character attributes that would leave him apparently harmless and sociable, so that he could better keep an eye on his classmates. During his week of preparation, he'd filled entire notebooks on potential characters, complete with background, theoretical reactions to different situations, dreams and aspirations, and quirks, among other things, but none of them had felt exactly right. More like bits and pieces of them were good, but he was having a lot of trouble making any kind of whole out of all the parts.

It was all a foggy swirl, and he was sure everything was there, somewhere, but he hadn't really been trained for this and he needed time-

The Bullhead shook slightly before the noise of the engines suddenly dissipated, and with a start Jaune realized that they had landed _._ His concept of time had fled from him, caught up as he was in his thoughts.

 _Alright then. Figure it out later._

It was sloppy thinking, not becoming of an Arc, but now that he was actually _at_ Beacon there were higher priorities than creating a perfectly waterproof character. People wouldn't know him that well yet anyways. Right now, he needed to get more familiar with the area and people; preparation was critical, and plans could only tell him so much.

The exit ramp lowered. With a deep breath, Jaune stepped off the aircraft and onto the landing platform.

Beacon was a very attractive campus. Wide, well lit spaces, plenty of vibrant plants, paved walkways, sparkling fountains, and pristine buildings all contributed to an impression of a top tier, well funded school. If he had been a prospective student, he would have been stunned, overwhelmed, awe struck. If he had been a new student, he would have been ecstatic, thrilled, excited. But instead he was a professional, and that meant he needed to scout the campus, get his bearings, and become familiar with potential threats, both structural and people. Plans were excellent, but nothing beat first hand knowledge.

He set off at a lazy stroll, taking extra care to ensure that he constantly wore an expression of wonder as he scanned. When he made eye contact with other students, he waved awkwardly. Awkwardness had been a recurring trend in all his potential characters.

It was only when a girl's voice called out to him that he realized that maybe he had done _too_ good a job feigning cluelessness.

"Excuse me!"

He turned. She was tall, almost tall as him, with striking red hair pulled into a long pony tail. She was dressed in what appeared to be bronze armor, and the effortless silence with which she walked spoke of long comfort in bearing it. He recognized her instantly. She was one of the students he had made special note of, one of the few he wasn't certain he could overcome in combat.

Pyrrha Nikos.

"Um, hi," he responded lamely. "Can I help you?" Halting at first, then transition into suave gentleman. It came naturally, so he went with it, making mental note that it was now part of his established character.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "You looked confused, so I was wondering if you were lost." She smiled hesitantly. "I'm afraid I'm lost myself. Perhaps we could search together?"

She was eyeing him cautiously, almost fearfully, but he couldn't imagine why. With his dorky armor and deliberately gangly movement, he couldn't possibly cut a less intimidating figure. Still, for some reason she had sought him out, and if he could forge a friendship she would be a very valuable asset.

"Yeah, I'm lost," he responded with a sigh. "It would be great to have some company."

She smiled widely, an enthusiastic, genuine reaction. "Then it would be honor." When Jaune resumed his earlier pace, she fell into step beside him.

"So, what's your name?" he asked. Almost immediately, she fell back into intimidated caution.

"Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos," she finally responded. Jaune wondered why she sounded so hesitant. Was she ashamed of her name and what she'd accomplished?

But that was a thought that Jaune Arc would have, not Jaune the hapless Beacon student, and so he crafted words that would better fit his new identity. Student-Jaune did not know Pyrrha Nikos, even if Jaune Arc did.

"That's a nice name," he said. "Very pretty."

She stared at him in wide eyed amazement. "Pretty?"

"Isn't it? Uh, do you not think so?"

The smile returned, an exhibit of beaming joy. "No, I quite agree with you," she said, voice tinged with chuckling relief. "I've just never been told that before."

Perfect. During his brainstorming sessions leading up to Beacon, he had been worried that an awkward persona might be perceived as undesirable, but she seemed to really like Student-Jaune. "That's too bad. It really is. Pretty, I mean."

She laughed, a surprisingly bubbly sound considering her reputation. "And what's your name?"

"Jaune Ar- uh, Jaune."

"Jaune Aruhjaune?" she asked in confusion.

"Sorry. Just Jaune. Short, smooth, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it." The last words slid out of his mouth like oil, and he wondered where they had come from. He certainly hadn't planned for them.

"I see," Pyrrha said, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Well, this lady certainly loves it."

"Really?" he asked, an echo of her earlier wide eyed amazement. "Wait, seriously? That's great! We should totally be friends."

Pyrrha laughed again, charmed by his bumbling enthusiasm. A warm burst of triumph flooded through Jaune. "I would be delighted."

They set off together to finish scouting their new home, chatting amiably.

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee felt bad.

Which was a terribly unsophisticated way to describe, well, anything, but she couldn't think of anything more specific to describe her inner turmoil, so bad would have to do.

She'd spent the week planning and planning, only contacting Ruby two days before they were scheduled for their flight. She'd gone over the details of their new Beacon identities at least three times, but her partner had been distracted, absent. Normally she'd be annoyed, but in this case she couldn't manage it. Especially because she was at least indirectly responsible for the younger girl's melancholy.

Only for this case, though. Ruby was still a pain to work with.

With a thump, the Bullhead touched down on Beacon's landing platform. Weiss strode out, the very picture of confident grace. She was the Schnee heiress, and everyone should know it.

It was a reminder to herself as well as to others. That she should be proud of her name, or at least what it used to mean, and that very soon the rest of the world would remember. She would make them remember.

Beacon was a pleasant enough place, even by her exacting standards. It was clean, structured, organized, an efficiently managed machine. It wasn't particularly noteworthy, but she also had no complaint against it, which was in itself a remarkable achievement.

She motioned to the Schnee family servants behind her, and at her beckoning they rolled a cart containing all of the supplies she would require for the year. Most notably, it held several massive cases of the dust she would expend during combat.

"Thank you," she said. "That will be all. Send my regards to my father."

It was a bit of a backhanded insult, given that she was here without his approval. The servants did not comment, however, instead choosing to bow and make their way back towards the Bullhead. When they were gone, Weiss let out a quiet sigh. Although she would never admit it, it was a little intimidating being so deep in enemy territory.

A flash of vibrant red caught her eye, and when she turned to find the source she saw Ruby, staring with undisguised passion at the weapons that other students were carrying. The casual observer could be forgiven for assuming she was awestruck in admiration, but Weiss knew her partner well enough to catch the hint of a smirk as Ruby analyzed the weapons around her.

 _Heh. Amateurs._ Mental-Ruby said. _I coulda built something better when I was twelve._

 _You are insufferably arrogant,_ Mental-Weiss responded. Which was something of an ironic accusation, but she refused to acknowledge that.

 _Not arrogance if it's true,_ Mental-Ruby countered.

 _That just makes it truly arrogant,_ Mental-Weiss sighed.

It was only when Ruby began meandering towards her that Weiss was broken out of her inner dialogue. The younger girl's attention was still focused on other students, not her immediate surroundings, so when a much taller boy jousled her roughly she was sent sprawling. She got back to her feet with a huff of indignation before resuming her slow trek towards Weiss.

Weiss shot Ruby a sidelong glance, brow furrowed in confusion. They had both agreed that the two of them should pretend not to know each other in order to mitigate potential suspicion, so what could she possibly be thinking…?

No. No, there was no way. But the kind of contrived convenience of an "accidental" meeting was _exactly_ the kind of foolishness Ruby would attempt. It wouldn't even surprise her if her partner had _allowed_ herself to be knocked over, just to give an impression of clumsiness.

She should really move. Surely the headmaster was going to address the incoming students soon, and she had things to do before then: dust to store, lockers to find and buildings to navigate, but morbid curiosity about the impending disaster Ruby was about to inflict on her kept her feet firmly rooted in place.

She didn't wait long. Almost as if it was slow motion, Ruby pivoted innocently, marveling at her surroundings. Weiss's cart was right behind her. The heiress realized her partner's intent far too late.

"Watch ou-" she began, voice warped with genuine panic, before the world exploded in a deafening cacophony of searing heat and brilliant orange-red flame.

The only reason both of them survived was that Ruby somehow managed to detonate one case without causing a catastrophic chain reaction. She'd also picked the case with the least potent dust, a low grade fire powder that was meant primarily for training.

It still hurt really, really badly.

The explosion threw Weiss back a good ten feet, ears ringing uselessly in the aftermath of the shockwave. Miraculously, Ruby appeared mostly unharmed. Needless to say, this irritated the Heiress to no end. Weiss gasped for breath and tried to clear the dizziness from her head.

"What-" she began, after the short amount of time she needed to recover to the point of rant-readiness. "What-" _what is wrong with you? What are you thinking? Why am I stuck with a thoughtless, daredevil imbecile of a partner?_ "Do you have _any_ idea what you just did to my dress?!"

Ok. On a list of priorities, that probably didn't make the top ten. Or the top hundred. She must be really rattled if _that_ was what slipped out of her.

Ruby blinked. "Uh… It's uh… Grey now? Well, more black really. But it still looks nice! Or at least about the same as before," She hastened to add.

Weiss stalked over to where her partner still sat splayed across a pile of toppled dust cases. "You. Are one. Of the most utterly irresponsible individuals I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!" She jabbed an accusatory finger into the younger girl. "Do you have any idea how close you came to _killing us both?"_

"Not close enough, apparently," Ruby sulked.

"Dust is volatile. _Extremely_ volatile," Weiss snapped. "You're lucky you didn't set off a chain reaction that would have left a crater fifty feet deep!"

Ruby threw her hands in the air. From her position on the ground, it looked ridiculous. "Well, sorry! It was an accident!"

 _Liar. You horrible, dirty liar._

"Just never bother me again!" Weiss snapped, and stalked off. She'd return for the dust later. While she was genuinely angry, there was a warning hidden underneath her harsh words. _They're watching. Stay away from me for a while._ Behind her, Ruby let out a growl of frustration.

 _Come on, Ruby. What are you doing?_

::-::-::

Ruby glared daggers at the retreating back of her partner. Alright, so _maybe_ it had been a little bit reckless, and _maybe_ it was logical for Weiss to be upset, and _maybe_ it would have been smarter to wait until initiation, but come on, she coulda worked with it, right? She didn't have to be so _cold._

Heh. Cold.

A pale hand entered her field of vision, and Ruby looked up in surprise. A girl stood over her, hand outstretched. Long, jet black hair, primarily black clothing, and a lithe figure gave off the impression of an aloof and dangerous individual, but what drew Ruby's attention were a pair of piercing golden eyes. Combined with the supernatural balance that the girl exuded, Ruby came to a rapid conclusion.

 _Faunus. Cat Faunus._

A dark ribbon hid where the young assassin assumed the ears were, but long years of harsh training and life and death situations had left Ruby very confident in her perception.

 _But why hide it? Most Faunus are proud of their heritage. They kinda have to be._

"Rough first day?" the girl asked, and her voice was calm, a soft, pleasant harmony.

Ruby grasped her hand, and the girl helped her up. She was surprisingly strong."Maybe a little."

"Hang in there." Having helped her up, the girl abruptly turned and walked away.

"Wait!" Ruby called. The girl didn't even slow, instead pulling a book out of her pouch as she walked. "What's your name?"

"Blake," she replied bluntly.

"Uh, thanks for the help," Ruby said.

Blake waved her hand dismissively, noise buried in her book.

Ruby sighed. "Zero for two, Ruby. Great start."

If she hadn't been so lost in her self-pity, she may have noticed a pair of purple eyes locked onto her, wide with horror.

::

::

::

 **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. School started back up, I got inspired for a one shot, and Xcom 2 came out. I'll leave it to you to decide which was the most disruptive.

The whole student facade is well and truly under way. What people say may not be what they think, even from their own point of view. Of course, that goes doubly if it's NOT their point of view.

My writing style is all over the place, compared to earlier chapters. Maybe it's from writing a lot more than I used to, or maybe it's because I'm perpetually tired. It feels a lot lazier to me, but let me know what you think. I guess it's easier to read now?

Thanks to everyone who favorited and followed, with double thanks to those who reviewed. I didn't really realize just how encouraging they are until I started writing myself. Hopefully this chapter answered some of the questions that were floating around after last chapter.


	5. Into the Fire II

**Chapter 5**

 _ **Into the Fire II**_

Jaune Arc was surprised to find that Pyrrha Nikos made for pleasant company.

She wasn't at all what he expected from an undefeatable champion. She had every right to be arrogant, brash, and abrasive; indeed, these were traits that he had witnessed in several other well known prodigies. Instead, she was mild, well mannered, and an excellent conversationalist.

They'd talked about basic stuff: family, background, likes and dislikes, but it had all flown so naturally that before Jaune knew it several hours had passed. Jaune Arc was horrified by the unprofessional lapse in attention, but Student-Jaune found that he rather enjoyed the change. It was… liberating, in a sense, but it would not do to regularly indulge such behavior.

Even distracted as he was, however, there was no way he could miss the buzzing rumble of a large group of people, and as they rounded a bend a massive huddle of students greeted their eyes. Looming over the crowd like a giant obelisk of white marble was a circular structure that must have been the main auditorium.

"Well, I guess we found it," Jaune said.

"It certainly seems so," Pyrrha responded. Jaune caught the tinge of disappointment in her words.

"Wanna sit together?" He asked nonchalantly. His time with Pyrrha had him convinced that not only would she be a useful asset, she would be a pleasant one as well. Fostering a partnership with her was one of his highest priorities.

She looked at him with surprise. "Is that alright?"

"Sure. Why not? I mean, I'd like it."

She flashed him the same brilliantly genuine smile that he'd witnesses a few hours ago. "Then I would be delighted."

They waited for a while while the crowd slowly made its way into the building, but eventually the overwhelming press of humanity dwindled into structured rows of anticipatory students. The din remained, though, as old friends reconnected and new ones were found. Jaune refused to be distracted this time, and his trained eyes constantly roved for any sign of a threat to the headmaster. Problem was, almost everyone was a threat to some degree. It was a school for huntsmen and huntresses, after all, and some of the best and brightest ones in the world to boot.

The auditorium was grand and spacious, with a very tall ceiling that induced a feeling of insignificance in those underneath it. Even though what must have been at least a thousand people were present within its walls, a multitude of empty seats suggested that its capacity was several times more. A stage with a single microphone placed front and center stood opposite the chairs, but for the moment it was empty. Jaune took a moment to memorize exits and analyze any oddities. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy, and he quickly turned his attention to other matters.

A flash of red and white caught his eyes, unexpectedly blinding even among the multicolored mass of students. Two girls sat next to each other, one chatting amiably and the other reluctantly listening. They were by all appearances no different than those around them, and Jaune turned away, wondering what had caught his attention in the first place.

"I think it's starting," Pyrrha whispered, and as if her words were a cue Glynda Goodwitch strode onto the stage. At the professor's entrance, the room fell silent, as if her very presence exuded pressure. She had that effect on people.

"Greetings, students," she began, voice clear and sharp. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch, and I am one of the professors at Beacon. To those of you who return to us, welcome back. I'm glad to see that you've survived the summer."

A dry chuckle ran through the ranks of the upperclassmen. Glynda did not even crack a smile. It had not been a joke. Summer meant jobs, and for a huntsman jobs were never safe.

"To those of you who are new to our school, welcome," she continued. "In a moment, the headmaster has words to share with you, but before that, allow me to set your perspective."

Her voice echoed with all the sharpness of a whip. "You are not here for fun. This is not a school to be enjoyed, although we hope you find your place. In being here, you have volunteered yourself for the hardest and most dangerous job in the world. You serve as the heroes who safeguard humanity from the Grimm. Beacon is not a place where you will be sheltered. It will not be comfortable. There will be times where you hate us, and passionately. But remember this: our goal is that you survive, and every death is a tragic failure on our part."

Somber silence reigned in the hall.

"I'm sorry that we must be so harsh, but it would be cruel for us to poorly prepare your expectations," Glynda said softly, and for the first time in her speech the stern mask slipped. "Should you desire to quit, know that you may depart with your head held high. The cost you have chosen to bear is immense, and it is heartbreaking to see you pay with your lives."

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha. She stared straight at the professor, eyes alight with steely determination. Despite himself, he felt a warm burst of pride.

 _Truly, an institution worthy of an Arc._

"That is all," Glynda said. "Before you are dismissed, Headmaster Ozpin has some words to share with you."

She stepped back, and Ozpin strode to take her place. The tension that marked the hall after Glynda's words relaxed into simply respectful silence. The headmaster's very bearing demanded attention, but it was presence without edge. Jaune Arc found himself impressed. This was a man he could guard with pride.

"Glynda has done an excellent job outlining the behavior that is expected of you," Ozpin said. He spoke moderately, deliberately, but they carried calm power that echoed throughout the hall. "Now I will remind you of your purpose."

His eyes scanned the crowd slowly, with burningly intense focus. "We have the privilege to dwell in a time of relative safety. While the Grimm roam the wilderness, we have built a safe fortress from which humanity may thrive. The world tells you that you are the stones that build that wall, that you are the shield against the ever present hammer of the Grimm. And they are right, but that is not all that you are."

He paced slowly, with a calm deliberateness that mirrored his voice. "Never assume that peace will remain. Never grow complacent. There are shadows that watch for weakness, and if we show it they will tear our world down around us. It is not enough for you to be a shield; you must be a sentinel, for our existence teeters on a knife's edge and the winds of change would seek to topple us. It is said that a huntsman walks with death. Such it is as well for the society they protect."

He stopped and turned back towards the crowd, and all at once it seemed like years of weariness had fallen from him. "But know this as well: you are up to the task. If we did not believe you to be the best, the brightest, and the strongest, you would not be here. Know that in everything you do, you walk with the unquestioning faith of your comrades and the people."

No one stirred, pressed down by solemn weight. Ozpin retreated, his piece said, and Glynda replaced him.

"New students, at twenty-two hundred hours you are to be present in the ballroom. Until then, you are free to explore and socialize with your peers. Second years, meet with professor Port, third years with professor Oobleck, and fourth years with myself. You are dismissed."

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee was feeling even more intimidated than before.

While the headmaster had been speaking, she had been caught up in his words, despite himself. For a fleeting moment, she had considered abandoning the mission, joining Beacon for real and leaving behind the revolution she was spearheading. Surely, the loss of such a great man would be a tragedy to the world.

But the moment had passed. The headmaster spoke of a society balanced on a knife's edge, but it was a broken society. Let it fall.

She still felt… Well, scared, to be honest. This was crazy. There had to be a better way, something that didn't involve living in the middle of hostile territory surrounded by suspecting professors, but it was too late now. They were committed, whether she liked it or not.

"Quite a speech, huh?" a cheery voice piped up from beside her.

Weiss turned to glare at the source. Ruby had been unusually clingy since they'd arrived at Beacon. The heiress still wasn't certain what her partner's motivation was. Was she intimidated?

"Uh, guess not?" Ruby wilted. "Sorry. About before. I know you said you didn't want to see me again, and I know I've been bothering you since then, but I don't know anyone else and I'd really like it if we could be friends so do you think maybe you could possibly forgive me?" The words came out in a tumbled rush.

Nope, still no clue what she was doing.

Ruby wasn't professional. At all. She was capricious and impulsive, probably two of the worst traits possible for an assassin, and it was a miracle she was as good as she was.

Well, partially a miracle, and partially a very, very skilled partner. As a statement of fact, of course, not empty bragging.

Still… If she was going to be so irritatingly _persistent_ , Weiss figured she might as well keep an eye on her. Just to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. It was a bit of a risk, but that was nothing new. It was _Ruby_ , after all.

"I… Suppose, it could have been an honest mistake. As long as you don't do something so utterly inane again, it's not impossible we could get along."

"Really?" Ruby asked hesitantly.

Weiss held out her hand in response. "Weiss Schnee."

Ruby took it. "Ruby Rose. Nice to meet you, Weiss."

Weiss gave her a single, firm handshake, a no-nonsense up and down movement.

 _Alright Ruby. Not sure what you're up to, but we're all in._

::-::-::

Blake Belladonna was very, very good at watching people.

A lifetime of suffering from prejudice and racism had left her with a keen sense for observation and instinctive judgement, a skill that had only been honed by her brief stint of terrorism under the White Fang. Little details popped out to the cat faunus, details that told worlds of information about people if one was astute enough to catch them. Now that it was night and all of the first years were gathered in one place, she had been provided with an opportunity that would likely never present itself again.

From behind the safety of a book, she observed. The words went unheeded, for a more interesting story unfolded before her.

There were plenty of trivial details. Young men and women flirting with each other, unused to sleeping in such close proximity and relishing the experience. Blake couldn't help but roll her eyes at their antics. Such immaturity wouldn't last. A professor with wild glasses and even wilder hair watched over the group with what might be mistaken for vigilance, but his slouched posture and death grip on a steaming cup of coffee suggested otherwise. An exhausted man, but hadn't school just started? What could have tired the man out already? Certainly, faculty had tasks to perform during the summer, but to cause such intense weariness already…? Unlikely.

A flash of gold on the edge of her vision drew the cat Faunus' attention. A tall girl with brilliantly golden hair cast furtive glances at the opposite end of the ballroom. Blake's enhanced night vision caught the girl's clenched fists and tight shoulders. Stress, then, but why? Her hands bore heavy calluses, especially around the knuckles, and their tense state revealed curved muscles and an expert's grip. A brawler, then, in all likelihood. Faint scars along bare arms. Rough past? Scarring was extremely unusual under the healing effects of aura. Obtained at a young age, before her aura was unlocked? Or was it deliberate? Past history as an underground brawler? Someone who loved to fight, certainly.

Blake followed the girl's gaze to where it was centered on a petite girl in a black tank top and white and pink pajama pants. This one looked very, very young. Some girls looked young for their age, of course, but this one was extraordinarily so. Fifteen, maybe sixteen at most. At eighteen, Blake herself was already on the younger end of Beacon students. How had this girl made it in? A prodigy, no doubt; the weak and incapable were not granted entry. Even so, no matter how talented normal protocol demanded that she attend her full time at an entry level combat school. Beacon's demands required a certain amount of life experience and maturity. Did she have some kind of personal connection with faculty, perhaps? But not just anyone, someone high ranking, someone who could pull strings. Glynda Goodwitch or Ozpin, perhaps?

And why did she look so irritatingly familiar? The more she watched, the more Blake was convinced that she had seen the girl before, but it was an elusive recollection, dancing away mockingly whenever the cat faunus grasped at it. Danger, though, she was certain of that; every subconscious shard that came to her screamed danger, but why?

The girl's behavior was equally bewildering. By all appearances, she seemed shy and awkward, a timid girl barely old enough to be considered a young woman surrounded by older, confident, and intimidating seniors. Blake caught her hunched posture as she huddled in her bedding, eyes stealing frightened glances toward the predominantly male side of the room, arms wrapped defensively around her small frame. Bad history? Traumatic event? Or just shy, and especially uncomfortable with men?

And yet the girl exuded a faint edge of cool competence and cockiness, an impression that was well at odds with her surface characteristics.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Golden-hair had moved from occasional looks to a full blown stare, hands clenching and unclenching in an uneasy rhythm. Still an unanswered question. Past history? Irritation or envy about the girl's age? Perceived injustice?

Too hard to tell, for now. Blake was very, very good at watching, noticing, observing. Putting the pieces together… Putting them together had been Adam's job.

 _That_ relationship, unfortunately, was all too clear to the cat faunus.

With a puff of breath, she extinguished the candle that had been her reading light before settling into her sleeping roll, ignoring the hushed chatter around her.

::-::-::

Ruby Rose awoke with excitement coursing through her.

No more awkward socializing attempts, no more playing the frightened child, initiation was her chance to do what she did best: kill things. She'd have to hold back on her efficiency, of course. No mere huntress in training should be able to use a scythe, one of the most awkward weapons possible despite its lethality, and perfectly target weak points with every strike. Even so, the limitation didn't dampen her spirits. If anything, the challenge would be exciting.

Also, _kill things._

"Morning Weiss!" she sang as her bleary partner rose from her slumber. "It's a beautiful day."

"Shut up," Weiss mumbled. "You're never this chipper in the morning. What's wrong with you."

The heiress realized her slip a moment too late. Luckily, most of the surrounding students were still asleep or barely awake.

"I mean, it's so early. Are you always this obnoxious?" she hastily corrected.

Ruby internally sighed. Weiss had never been good at improvising, and her correction had been so clumsy it would have caused more harm than good to an attentive student. "It's initiation day! Aren't you excited?"

"I will be in a couple of hours," Weiss grumbled. "And I'll be even more excited if you bother someone else."

"Aww, that's mean," Ruby pouted. "I thought we were friends now?"

"Only when your mouth is closed. So never." Weiss shot back acidly.

Before Ruby could respond, the sharp clarity of Glynda's voice blared through the ballroom's speakers. "All first years, you have one hour to prepare yourself and assemble at the training fields. Any tardiness will be grounds for immediate failure. I repeat, you have one hour to assemble at the fields."

The echo of the words still hung in the air when Ruby dragged Weiss to her feet. "Come on! No time. Gotta pack our stuff, eat, find lockers, and go! Hurry up!"

Grudgingly, Weiss complied.

The morning flew by in a haze of motion and anticipation. Ruby figured she must have eaten breakfast at some point (because she wasn't hungry) and that cookies must have been involved (because a stack of them had somehow appeared in her hands), and that at some point, she must have made her way to the correct field (because there were bunches of other people here and Weiss wasn't complaining).

She smirked. The thrum of excitement - _crimson, sanguine, ebony -_ left her almost breathless. She danced from one foot to the other, a light footed reaper awaiting the signal to - _kill_ \- start. Other students looked stressed, anxious, whatever. Not her. She was the best, after all.

Oh, right, still had cookies. The smirk fell from her face as she stuffed one of the chocolatey, buttery confections in her mouth in one giant bite.

Heavenly.

The crack of whip on ground quieted the murmur of the crowd of students. Ruby snapped her attention forward to where Glynda Goodwitch stood on an elevated riser, staring down at the students below her like a goddess of discipline.

"It's starting!" she quietly squealed.

"Shut up," Weiss hissed, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed her own excitement.

"Welcome to initiation," Glynda's voice rang out. "Up to this point, your past achievements have been enough to grant you entry into this school. Now is when you prove you belong."

 _Ok ok ok I get it come on let's go!_

"Those of you who bothered to read through your orientation briefing will be familiar with the initiation process. Those of you who did not, consider this your first lesson: _always_ do the reading. Sloppy preparation is not acceptable for a hunter."

"We had a briefing?" Ruby whispered.

Weiss sighed. "They handed it out this morning."

A pause. "Like, sent it to our scrolls?"

"No," Weiss hissed, " _paper_ copy."

This morning? What had happened this morning… Wake up, excitement… Cookies? Ok, there was definitely room somewhere in there for… stuff. Oh wait, she vaguely recalled using some kind of paper for a napkin. Oops. "What'd it say?"

"Go to the forest, find a relic, first person you make contact with is your partner for the next four years," Weiss rattled off tonelessly.

Ruby blinked in surprise. "That seems like an awfully careless way to assign partners."

"Quiet," Weiss replied, but the lack of rebuttal told Ruby that her partner agreed with her assessment. "I'm trying to listen."

"A letter-number designation will be sent to your scrolls," Glynda continued. Apparently, whatever she'd been saying hadn't been important. Probably lecturing. "The letter corresponds to each of the launch pads that will propel you into the forest. The number assigns you to a group; ones are launched first, then twos, and so on. Good luck. Be on guard; even if your life is in danger, we will not interfere."

Ruby glanced at her scroll. N-2.

"What'dja get?" She asked Weiss.

"A-3." The heiress hesitated. "If - if it's possible, we should try to partner up. It'll make everything simpler. Stay hidden if you can, at least until I can signal you."

"Aight," Ruby smiled - everything just felt right. "See you soon, Weiss. Don't die."

Weiss snorted humorlessly. "As if I would." Despite her bravado, the tension that dominated her bearing and a noticeable glimmer of anxiety told a different story then one of confidence.

Well, that was Weiss. She worried too much.

The launch pads were clearly labeled, and Ruby found the the N section after only a few seconds. Students milled about in a confused mob, unable to formulate any kind of order without explicit instructions. The first wave eventually stumbled into position, and at a sharp command from Glynda they were propelled into the air, barreling towards the open arms of the ravenous forest below. Their space vacated, Ruby skipped forward enthusiastically.

Only a few minutes had passed before a shout of "ten seconds until launch!" ran down the line. A stalwart confidence settled over the assembled students, now that the nervous wait was over. They were the best of the best the brightest and most promising of their generation. What need did they have to fear?

 _Three, two, one,_ Ruby mentally counted. Right on cue, the launch pad engaged, and with a deafening rush of wind and a violent tug on her stomach she was flying.

 _Ready or not, here I come._

::-::-::

 **AN:** The thought that you will be attending Beacon… It fills you with DETERMINATION.

Sorry for the delay. This chapter was mad suffering to write. I don't even know why.

The number of students at Beacon's a bit larger in this story. Always seemed odd that there weren't more than a couple dozen people in RWBY/JNPR's year. I'd still consider one thousand students a very small school, especially for one as prodigious as Beacon.

Beacon's a way less friendly place, at least at this point. What can I say, it's a darker Remnant. Volume 3 Remnant with volume 1 storyline, heh heh. (In my opinion, Volume 3 was excellent and the first time I felt like the series was beginning to live up to its potential)

Action really begins next chapter.

Thanks for reading. Review please, and thanks for the follows/favs!


	6. He Who Hesitates

**Chapter 6**

 _ **He Who Hesitates**_

Ruby hung in suspension.

For one miniscule moment, the constant battle between her momentum and gravity came to a perfect stalemate. Cloudless azure sky flowed seamlessly into verdant treetops, while craggy mountains reached mighty arms of stone upwards, as if to catch her. It was the kind of breathtaking image that can only be found behind menacing threats of danger. In a flash it would be lost, but for the wisp of time that she could, Ruby simply enjoyed it.

Then gravity won.

The image dissolved around her in a wall of wind that pressed against her face with all the implacability of a steam roller. She plummeted like a stone, crimson cape and dark hair streaming behind her, and despite her best efforts to slow her descent by spreading her arms the ground rushed eagerly upwards to meet her. Viridian trees thrust forth devouring branches, and the closer she got the more certain her death became.

Huntresses, however, were born to defy certainty.

She felt the comforting warmth of her aura embrace her like a favorite blanket, and gathering it together she pushed against the world with it, and reality gave way before her. Everything slowed to a crawl as her semblance imposed its way, and by the time she had reached the treeline she had a path plotted out. A landing strategy was one of the things that were taught at preliminary combat schools, and one of the fundamental components of an effective one was to use your weapon in whatever way possible to slow your descent. A huntress's weapon, after all, was more than capable of taking the abuse.

Having never attended a preliminary combat school, Ruby didn't know this. Not that she would have cared anyways. Such a task was beneath Crescent Rose.

Instead, she angled her body like a missile, feet tearing through the forest canopy, although with her enhanced perception she may as well have been slowly sliding into it. The thin branches at the top were ruthlessly shorn off, but the thicker ones were still a danger; even with aura, hitting thick wood at over a hundred miles per hour was a deadly prospect. Those she twisted, flipped, ran across, and spun about, never hitting them directly but using the movement to bleed a little bit of speed off each time. Twigs clawed at her face and clothes, but her aura-armored skin shrugged it off and the toughened cloth of her garments held. By the time she reached the ground, she had slowed enough to land with a semblance boosted sprint and roll. She took a moment to dust herself off, surveying the massive wooden tree trunks around her.

Well, it hadn't been exactly a clean landing, but it worked.

A rapid series of snarls was her only warning that she was not alone. A common civilian misconception of the Grimm was that if you happened to meet one of the creatures, you would have time to run, react, call for help, fight, or whatever. Most people believed that they would watch you, size you up, before deciding whether or not to strike.

Utterly wrong. The Grimm were predators, the ultimate hunters of mankind, and as soon as they were presented with prey they struck like lightning: without warning, and without hesitation. Even an experienced huntress could be torn asunder in the blink of an eye.

Ruby had the misfortune of landing directly in a den of beowolves.

She had barely gotten her bearings when a heaving black mass blotted out the limited sunlight that filtered through the trees above. She looked up in surprise, and came face to face with the a pair of glowing red eyes. The creature was only a few feet away from her, razor claws extended, serrated teeth bared, rippling muscles bulging against constraining leathery skin. The stench of rotten meat wafted through the short distance to her nostrils. Death descended on her, but she was Ruby Rose - Ruby Rose, Cinder's black flower, not Ruby Rose, naive Beacon student. In the surprise of the attack, she had no time to plan constraint.

She smirked.

Her semblance bent reality once more, and the grimm's vicious pounce slowed like a bullet through cold honey. In a flash of blood red, Crescent Rose lept into her hand, fully deployed, and with a single, lethal strike she tore through the beowolf, the blade slipping effortlessly through a narrow gap in the creature's ribcage, and in a shower of coal black fragments the beowolf was no more.

Beowolves were tough, tenacious creatures, but they had their weak points, as long as one knew where to aim. Her aim had been perfect. Neo would be proud. Or at least slightly less abusive than normal.

The world sped back to its usual pace as she disengaged her semblance. No point in expending more of her aura than necessary, and such trivialities as _combat_ didn't demand constant use. Three more beowolves converged on her, covering a dozen yards in a single bounding leap. Cresent Rose crippled one, cutting through a vulnerable leg joint, before a second slash across its chest ended its life. With flowing continuation, Ruby put a high caliber sniper round straight through the eye of the second, the lethal momentum of the bullet jerking the creature's head back at an impossible angle before it disintegrated entirely. The third was dangerously close, so she activated her semblance and danced backward, barely dodging a swipe that would have opened her chest. Crescent Rose severed the offending claw, before propelling the young huntress forward with the sharp crack of a shot. Ruby twirled through the air, and a spinning slash sliced through the softer skin of the beowolf's neck as if it were air, not sinewy muscle.

 _Easy. Way too easy._

The beowolves rushed on, uncaring of their losses, and more of them flooded out of earthen dens. Being overwhelmed was a very real threat, but Ruby dashed forward to meet them with uncaring determination, killing them with all the efficiency of a reaper among wheat. Crescent Rose flashed again and again, at semblance speed when it was necessary, at normal when it was not, and every cut was death given form. Slash through the maw, shoot through another, dodge back with the recoil, one, two, three more shots, dead, dead, dead. One of them jumped, jump to meet it, rake it through the chest, watch it melt, spin downwards, kill another, one shot downwards, one shot upwards, twirl, semblance. Critical weak points leapt into her vision like luminescent lights, and Crescent Rose sought then hungrily. Slash, twirl, shoot, spin, four more dead, a lethal dance with violent partners. When a jump left her exposed for a fraction of a second, however, one of the grimm blindsided her, brutally tackling her to the ground. Ruby let out an instinctive cry of pain, Crescent Rose torn out of her grasp under the force and surprise of the attack. The triumphant Grimm pinned her with a crushing claw on her torso. Devouring fangs went straight for her throat, and a lesser huntress would have died right then.

Had Crescent Rose been her only weapon, Ruby would have been helpless. She'd learned a couple of things from her less scrupulous instructors, though. One was that more options was always good, especially in combat. Another was that there was no such thing as dirty fighting, only winning and losing. She knew that Crescent Rose was nigh useless if her opponents ever caught her off guard and managed to get in close, of course. So she had a back up plan.

In this case, a hidden dagger under her skirt. She called it Thorn.

She yanked the weapon from its sheath and stabbed upward, catching the beowolf in the underside of its jaw, straight through its brain, and diverted the creature's lethal blow with a strained shove. The crushing weight dissipated along with the grimm, and she rolled to her feet. There were only a few stragglers left, but she hadn't had the chance to pick up Crescent Rose from where it lay impotently on the earth and then they were upon her. She made do, darting in, out, up, and around the grimm with inhuman agility. Thorn ripped into the creatures hungrily, but they retaliated, no longer held at bay by Crescent Rose's long reach. A slashing claw tore one of her sleeves to ribbons when she was forced to dash forward to align a lethal thrust, and a glancing blow to her thigh was turned only by her aura.

Eventually, though, the last of the grimm died with a gurgling snarl, and silence fell, thick and oppressive, as if the world itself was struck speechless by the utter massacre it had just witnessed.

"Sweet mother of grimm. Are you an alien?"

Ruby twitched violently, and a surprised squeak burst from her lips, the sound signaling the end of the trance that she had fallen into. Behind her stood a young man, tall, blonde, and scraggly, mouth agape. A sword and shield hung on his back, and his chest was guarded by a silver breastplate.

"No!" she blurted out. "At least, I don't think so. As far as I know, I'm a girl. A human one. In case that wasn't clear." Or at least as normal as one could be with over half a decade of assassination training.

"Are you sure?" The boy asked cynically, eyebrow raised. "Because that sure didn't look human. Maybe you're some top secret military cyborg? Or some next generation robotic humanoid grimm hunter?" He pounded a fist into his palm, eyes alight with realization. "Or a genetically modified super human, evolved from dozens of generations of breeding and infused with grimm particles!"

 _Ok, who would even make something like that?_

In all seriousness though, this was bad. Super bad. Or at least pretty bad. Not only had she completely failed to partner with Weiss by meeting another student first, this boy had almost certainly witnessed the casual comfort with which she had just single handedly slaughtered a pack of beowolves. She was supposed to look like an enthusiastic wannabe huntress, not an accomplished killer! The grimm had caught her off guard, and she'd just fallen into ingrained reactions.

 _Think Ruby, think!_

There was the slim chance she could play it off as normal, but Beacon only took top notch students, so he was probably observant enough to be well aware exactly how dangerous she was. Would trying to divert him raise suspicion? She could just accept the praise, but wouldn't that be acknowledging that she was, well, extraordinary? If only she had fumbled a bit, or been wild, not a perfectly efficient machine. Uh, what other options were there? Or was she just totally overthinking everything? Maybe he would just assume that every Beacon student was _that_ good?

Gah, thinking was hard.

 _Where's Weiss when you need her._

She waved her hands in bashful protest. "I just got lucky." Heh. Luck. As if.

"If you say so," the boy conceded. "You don't look like a cyborg anyways."

He strolled closer, and as he approached she got a better look at him. What she had originally interpreted as scraggly gangliness she now could see was corded muscle, thin in the same way fashion as steel wire. It spoke of understated athleticism, an image that was entirely at odds with the clueless clumsiness that dominated his bearing.

"Sorry," the boy laughed nervously. "Kind of a weird way to introduce myself. The name's Jaune. Short, sweet, ladies love it."

 _Really now, do they?_

"Rose. I mean, Ruby. My name. First name, that is. I mean Rose is part of my name too, but I'd rather you call me Ruby because I don't think you usually call people by their last name?" What was she even _saying_? Ruby wished that she could say that this was all some deliberate act to play up her innocent image, but no, she was honestly just _that_ awkward.

 _Cinder made sure I knew thirty hundred different ways to kill people, but she couldn't have bothered to help me with basic conversation?_

She buried her face in her hands, ears burning. "Just pretend I didn't say anything."

To her relief, Jaune laughed, this time with genuine amusement. "Don't worry, I'm the same. We'll get along just fine."

Get along…? Oh right, the whole partner thing. Well, if she had to be stuck with a Not-Weiss, at least she'd have someone who was every bit as dorky as she _apparently_ was.

"I guess so." She grinned at him, embarrassment slowly transitioning to teasing smugness. "You're almost as bad as I am. Ladies love it? Really?"

"They do!" Jaune protested. "Every single one! Every one that I've told, anyways."

"How many is that," Ruby deadpanned. "Zero? Family doesn't count."

"One," Jaune admitted. "Wait, two now! Well, assuming you love it. Or at least like it."

"Ehh," Ruby said noncommittally. Jaune shrunk in on himself with an exaggeratedly hurt expression, and she couldn't help but giggle.

"So critical," Jaune mourned. "Just can't please kids these days."

"I'm not a kid!" Ruby glared at him, cheeks puffed sullenly. "I'm fifteen! I drink milk!"

 _Shut up shut up shut up shut up your speaking privileges are revoked._

Jaune raised an eyebrow again in surprise. "You're only fifteen?"

 _Great job, Miss "I drink milk!" Go ahead, draw attention to your irrefutable talent! Would you like to make an open confession while you're at it? "Hi everyone, my name's Ruby Rose, and I'm an assassin for Cinder! Let's be friends forever!"_

"Yeah," she admitted. "I shouldn't have said anything. Please don't tell anyone?"

"Sure," Jaune said. "I guess it could be a little-"

A massive shockwave shook the earth, and both of them instinctively dropped into combat stances. No grimm sprang to ambush them, but they glanced around warily nonetheless.

"We should move," Ruby said tersely. Their lightheartedness dissipated in a heartbeat, dispelled by the sudden reminder of the danger around them.

Jaune nodded. "Which way?"

Ruby gestured haphazardly towards the trees, and the two of them set off. They fell into a companionable, if tense, silence, lost as they were in their own thoughts. She wasn't really sure what to make of her partner. He seemed nice enough, if a bit… passive? Dense? Innocent and safe.

She couldn't shake the nagging doubt that she was completely, utterly wrong.

::-::-::

Jaune Arc fell.

As soon as he had been launched off of Beacon, he realized that his options for a landing strategy were severely limited. It was one of the few times where his trusted Crocea Mors had failed him; it did not possess the modular transformation available to many more modern weapons. For all its master craftsmanship, the ancient blade lacked any kind of flexibility.

Flexibility that, for example, might help him break a half mile free fall. Just hypothetically, of course.

Well, nothing for it. His mother had always joked he had aura built like a tank. Hopefully she was right. It'd be pretty disgraceful to die splattered across a tree like an insect on a windshield.

As the forest drew closer, he turtled behind his shield and waited for impact. With a deafening crack, he broke the canopy, a one hundred and seventy five pound cannonball. He tore through ancient wood like paper, and while the aura of a lesser man would have burst like overripe fruit he shrugged it off. With a final crack, the lowest branches shattered, and he landed heavily, battered but mostly unharmed.

He'd been fortunate, to be part of the initial launch group. They'd been strewn across the forest in wild, haphazard patterns, which meant that for at least the few minutes until the second wave arrived he was gloriously alone.

No need to hide. No need to pretend. A brief respite for Student-Jaune to lie dormant and for Jaune Arc to breath.

He trotted deeper into the forest, Crocea Mors leading his way like a silver guide. The trees pressed towards him, dark emerald boughs greedily devouring the sun's rays, and he had to strain his eyes to make out any kind of path in the gloom.

After a few minutes, a wide dirt path yawned before him, pockmarked with jagged brown stumps and shredded trunks. It would be nice not to have to duck and weave through vegetation, but Jaune knew he was staring at danger. The forest lacked human habitation, so the only source of such a path was the grimm. Very, very large grimm.

With a deafening roar, one of the likely instigators of the woodland carnage made itself known to him. A massive ursa, easily ten feet tall, came barreling at him through the debris, sending splinters of wood flying in its wake. Jaune faced it resolutely, shield in front, sword ready.

 _Do honor to your name._

When it was close enough, he sidestepped nimbly, slashing at the beast's flank. Crocea Mors penetrated the ursa's iron skin, but not deep enough enough to be anything but a scratch.

Ah well. A longer fight would be good. He could use the exercise.

The beast flailed at him with a gargantuan paw as it thundered past, but it was an awkward swing and Jaune deflected it with his shield easily. Even so, the incredible weight behind the ursa could have easily sent a lesser man staggering. Not an Arc, though. An Arc was implacable.

The ursa approached more cautiously the second time around, circling in an almost human manner. Jaune mirrored it, waiting for the beast to make the first move. Predictably, it did, leaping forward with a hammer-like swipe. Uncaring of its monstrous mass, Jaune stepped into the blow, deflecting it away from him with an angle of his shield, and laid a brutal slash into the ursa's vital organs. Crocea Mors sent a spray of black fragments hissing through the air, but the ursa stayed upright.

It was a bit odd, fighting something so durable. Jaune's training had been focused on fighting multiple opponents, especially nimble ones, that would try to overwhelm him through numbers, or maybe sneak through and kill the one he was guarding. The ursa, of course, was none of those things.

 _A wall, a rampart, a fortress._ He recited silently. _Such is the Arc way._

A fortress could not be overpowered, merely worn down. Even if if it was outside his specialty, the grimm would not outlast him.

The ursa swiped at him again, which he dodged easily, but followed its blow up almost immediately with a slash from the opposite paw. The sudden change in tempo caught Jaune off guard, and he was forced to take the blow directly on his shield instead of deflecting it away. A thousand pounds of corruption met a masterfully crafted aura supported steel sheet with a deafening clang.

His aura wavered, but Jaune stood unbowed, even as his boots tore angry furrows in the forest loam. The ursa hesitated, obviously unused to a mere human that could weather such a blow. Jaune responded with a thrust to its head. The point pierced a glowing red eye, a strike that should have killed the beast straight out, but instead it only partially blinded it.

The ursa bellowed, a guttural wall of roiling sound. Jaune dashed forward, punching his shield into the beast's jaw with a sharp crack, and it reeled backward, the ground trembling under its weight. He pressed his advantage, severing an appendage with a mighty swing, then following it up with a shield slam to an exposed leg joint. It collapsed underneath the blow, toppling the ursa with a resounding crash as the beast shattered the wood beneath it.

 _A sword to the wicked._

Jaune left no room for it to recover; before the grimm had even hit the ground he was on top of it. It only had time for a single, enraged scream before Crocea Mors pierced its uninjured eye, this time penetrating straight through to its brain. The ursa dissolved immediately, leaving only a massive imprint in the ground where it had fallen.

 _My purpose fulfilled. Justice delivered. May the rest of your ilk follow suit._

A series of faint shouts and whoops above him signaled the arrival of the second wave of students. Jaune Arc hesitated for a moment, unwilling to do quickly relinquish his brief moment of freedom, but the necessity of the situation demanded that he once again take up his mask. With faint irritation, Jaune Arc returned to his slumber and Student-Jaune awoke.

His wandering resumed into thicker and thicker foliage. Thick vines impeded his progress, even as jutting roots threatened his stability, and the black-green murk made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. When he finally stumbled into a vast clearing, it caught him completely by surprise.

It was almost blinding, being suddenly bombarded with unhindered sunlight. Even so, there was no way he could have been distracted from the sight before him.

He saw beauty, in the form of a little hooded girl.

Young and small, red like blood and black like death. She flowed with liquid fluidity, blurring in and out of the world in bursts of inhuman speed, a flashy style that he couldn't approve of but admittedly earned his grudging respect. He realized he had seen her before; she had been one of the students to catch his notice at the opening ceremony. Perhaps when he had noticed her it had been a premonition, his highly tuned perception subconsciously catching subtle details and inconsistencies. Or perhaps it had simply been chance.

Either way, she was _wrong_. Unnatural. Appealing. Terrifying. Lovely. Preliminary combat schools didn't teach fighting like that. He'd been trained for most of his life under several different instructors, and he'd still never seen anything quite like it.

The last of the grimm died with a hiss.

He could turn away, hide, wait until he found Pyrrha. He was an Arc, experts of awareness; avoiding unwanted company would be trivial. The partnership process was easy enough to circumvent, if you were careful.

But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needed to keep an eye on this girl. She was dangerous, she was unknown, and he was a master at dismantling the unknown.

 _Sorry, Pyrrha. Hope you find someone else._

With a breath, he stepped forward.

"Sweet mother of grimm. Are you an alien?"

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee had to admit she was having a harder time than anticipated.

With a thrust of Myrtenaster, she sent a jagged lance of ice straight through the last of the beowolves that had jumped her. The grimm's hardened skin resisted for a heartstopping moment before succumbing to the dust powered projectile, body decaying even before it hit the ground.

The adrenaline generated by her encounter faded rapidly in the wake of the fight, leaving the fiery pain from a nasty gash across her arm to return full force. She clenched her teeth with an angry hiss. The wound still bled, but her regenerating aura had already closed the rush of blood to a thin trickle. Even so, it had been a sloppy mistake, a completely avoidable misjudgment of a beowolf's range. Even aura couldn't protect her from such a direct blow. Disgraceful.

The beasts were much, much faster than she had expected. Ruby and her ridiculous semblance had always made fighting them look so _easy._ Not that Weiss would ever tell her that. Little brat had enough of an ego already.

She took the brief reprieve to gather her breath, refocus her mind, and let her aura recharge. She was in a precarious position; partnering with Ruby would be ideal, but best and brightest or not there were only a handful of students in their year who would survive the forest for any significant length of time. There would be immense pressure to group as soon as possible, and judging from her struggle with a mere three beowolves Weiss wasn't convinced she had the privilege of running solo.

Before heading out, she checked Myrtenaster's dust stores. Still plenty left: fire, ice, and lightning. It'd be better to conserve what she could, however. She had no way to replenish her reserves, and overconfidence would certainly lead to a fast and messy death.

She set off at a brisk pace. Her landing zone had been an unusually sparse section of the forest, and she had little trouble navigating around the ancient trees. Bright sunlight lit the vibrant greens around her, and combined with the patches of clear blue sky Weiss could make out above her it would have been a very pleasant stroll were her life not in danger.

A sharp rattling hiss immediately put her on alert, and the concussive boom of an explosive weapon that accompanied it informed Weiss of a nearby battle. She cautiously made her way toward the sound, Myrtenaster ready. No harm in getting a closer look; if she saw someone she'd want to partner with then she could proceed from there. If not, it was easy enough to fade back into the forest.

She was greeted by one of the oddest battles she had ever seen. A golden huntress was fighting the distinctive white and black double heads of a king taijutu, but her manner of combat was… shocking, to say the least. She possessed next to no technique or regard for her safety, instead choosing to pound devastating blow after blow into the grimm, sending fountains of black particles spewing into the air with each strike. One of the heads struck her with deadly fangs, and Weiss winced, expecting to see the inevitable scarlet spray that marked the death of a classmate. Instead, the huntress just shrugged it off, shattering the offending tooth with a gauntleted fist.

Weiss blinked in surprise. _That was… unexpected._ It was kind of mesmerizing, watching this berserker of a woman go toe to toe, so to speak, with a creature ten times her size.

Barbaric though. So very barbaric.

The snake like grimm caught the huntress off guard, knocking her to the ground and coiling around her arms. She cried out in pain and rage, helpless to stop the heads that signaled her demise. No matter how tough she was, there was no way she could survive many more hits.

Weiss grimaced. This wasn't exactly how she had wanted to choose a partner, but the thought turning her back and leaving a classmate to die left a foul taste in her mouth. She may have chosen to ally with some _questionable_ individuals, but that didn't mean she had to imitate them.

 _I suppose you'll have to work without me, Ruby. Maybe you'll finally learn to use your brain._

Two swift thrusts sent forked lightning arcing through the air, nailing both heads with pinpoint accuracy. With a crackle of power, the already weakened grimm disintegrated, leaving the newly huntress free to pull herself to her feet.

"Thanks for the assist!" she said with a cheery wave. "You're a mage type? Tell me you're not taken. We'd be a perfect duo."

Weiss reeled backward, desperately struggling to keep her face neutral.

 _No. No no, this can't be happening._

But it made perfect, horrifying sense. When she'd first started working with Ruby, she'd done heavy research on the young assassin. Petty things such as security for private records meant nothing to the SDC, so Weiss was well aware of Ruby's family.

 _Every_ member of Ruby's family.

"You alright there?" The huntress asked, suddenly very close. Weiss stared back wide eyed, unable to formulate words.

Of _course_ she hadn't died. She was the daughter of Taiyang XiaoLong and Raven Branwen. With blood like that, what could stop her? It was obvious, in hindsight, that she would have made her way into Beacon.

But why now? Why, when the absolute last thing Ruby needed was such a crippling distraction?

"Not the talkative type, huh?" The huntress asked. "Works for me." She reached out a hand with a jaunty wink. "My name's-"

Yang XiaoLong. Ruby's erstwhile missing sister.

::-::-::

 **AN:**

Thorn. Cuz every rose has thorns. Heh. Heh. Heh Heh. I'm so sorry.

Almost as sorry as I am for sticking two long fight scenes one after another. I wanted the contrast. It _probably_ won't happen again… Unless you guys liked it. In which case I'm not sorry at all.

The grimm are way stronger than canon, but you may not get that feeling here: Ruby and Jaune are really, really overpowered. I'm a firm believer that overpowered characters face even more overpowered challenges, however, so I wonder what's coming up next? Nyeh heh heh …

I was told that the fight scenes could use improvement, and rightly so. I tried to change that this chapter. Hopefully it's a step in the right direction, not the wrong one. Thanks for the advice! Dialogue improvement is on the horizon, but it's something I'm having a lot more trouble pinning down...

Good job to those of you who guessed I would pair Ruby and Jaune. Complications indeed.

Thanks for the support, everyone!


	7. He Who Hesitates II

**Chapter 7**

 _ **He Who Hesitates II**_

Jaune Arc was becoming increasingly convinced that his newfound partner had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Their initial meeting had been so sinister that he had automatically assumed her to be an extremely competent individual, but when they passed through the same clearing for the fifth time with her apparently none the wiser he began to wonder if he had misevaluated her.

"Haven't we been here before?"

Ruby blinked in surprise. "Have we?" She scanned the clearing. "I dunno. It all looks the same to me."

Had she not noticed the highly unusual brilliant red flower growing out of a crook in one of the trees? It had jumped out to him immediately.

"I'm not sure. This place just feels familiar."

Ruby hummed noncommittally. "Maybe. You want to try leading? I'm getting pretty turned around."

"Sure. I'll give it a shot." He'd seen the jagged peaks of some cliffs in the distance. With any luck, it'd be a good vantage point to scan the forest, as well as shelter for the night. It was already afternoon, and being stranded in the forest was a death sentence, especially with only two people.

They had barely walked for thirty seconds when Ruby broke the silence, no longer occupied with the arduous task of forging a path through the thick wood. "That's a beautiful sword. What's its name?"

Name? An odd question to start with. "Crocea Mors," Jaune declared proudly. "It's been in my family for generations. It was my dad's sword, before-" a calculated pause, to imply he had stolen it. "Before I got it." Deliberately ambiguous. Hinted at shady entry into Beacon.

If she noticed the "slip," Ruby didn't comment. "A family heirloom, huh? That's amazing! I love the classics. They're so old fashioned and romantic."

Romantic? Was this girl serious?

"Not that you're old fashioned!" Ruby blurted. "Or old. Just that Crocea Mors is. But in a good way! Ancient, like trees or mountains. Except, maybe not _that_ old."

Jaune Arc internally sighed. Of all the things he had expected his partner to be, ditzy was not one of them.

"I get what you mean," Student-Jaune chuckled. "Don't worry about it. It's just a sword, anyways."

"Not _just_ a sword," Ruby said, suddenly intense and solemn. "Our weapons are a part of who we are. They're a piece of our soul. How it looks, what it does, it all shows what kind of person you are."

That was certainly a… dramatic way to look at it.

"And what you do with it," Ruby continued, "shows what kind of person you'll _become_. Your weapon is what you're like at your core, no matter what you appear to everyone else."

"What does Crocea Mors say about me then?" He asked teasingly.

"You're serious," Ruby claimed without hesitation. "Straightforward. Trustworthy. Honorable. Loyal. Determined."

Was he? Was he really? "That's a pretty big claim."

She shrugged. "Haven't been wrong yet."

Funny, how he had put so much work into crafting a careful image as a hapless but likable klutz, and yet this quirky girl with questionable social skills had managed to pierce much closer than she possibly could have known.

"What's your weapon?" he asked, partly as an attempt to steer her away from dangerous lines of thought, partly out of genuine curiosity. "Is it that knife?"

"Dagger," Ruby corrected, as if the clarification was of paramount importance. "And no, Thorn's just my back up. I love him, but my baby is right here." With an enthusiastic flourish, she deployed a massive red scythe, and Jaune noticed that as it unfurled it sliced through a thick branch like a spoon through oil. "Crescent Rose," Ruby cooed, stroking the shaft lovingly. "Worked on her since I was eight. She's an overhauled dust-boosted scythe, and also a high impact sniper rifle."

That seemed… needlessly extravagant. Also, the way she was cuddling a wicked instrument of murder was a bit unnerving.

"A what?"

"A gun," she explained.

"Oh. Cool." Should he ask? Why not, at least see what she said. "If weapons have meaning, then what's Crescent Rose's?"

Ruby twitched, startled out of her reminiscing. For a brief moment, Jaune caught a glimpse of… something. Regret? Longing?

"Can't tell you," Ruby finally said with a cheeky grin. "It's your job to figure it out."

What could such a weapon imply?

"Ah, come on. I'm new at this. Give me a hint?"

"Nope!" Her grin widened.

"Fine, fine. I'll think about it, then."

Another item on his growing list of questions.

Navigating through the forest often required literally hacking a path through the vegetation, and after a while Jaune felt himself growing tired, even with his excellent physical condition. Thirst was rapidly becoming an issue; he'd found a stream earlier, but that had been hours ago, and with no way to transport water he'd been forced to leave it behind.

"Can you get a better look around?" he gasped, pointing a gloved finger towards the top of one of the taller trees. "Maybe see if you can find water. Or food, actually. I need a break."

"Sure!" Ruby chirped, and in a flash of rose petals she was gone. Jaune leaned against one of the trees, reveling in the short break. After an all too brief moment, Ruby dropped next to him with a soft thump. "Some of the mountains are pretty close by. I saw smoke, too. You think other students made it there already?"

"Guess we'll find out," Jaune groaned, shoving himself off the tree onto unsteady feet. "Can you take the lead?"

Ruby made for a far less cautious leader. She happily cleaved a wide path of destruction whenever she deemed necessary, and although he appreciated the ease of travel Jaune winced every time a falling tree sent a deafening crash tearing through the woods. To his surprise, no Grimm came charging to meet them. While they were primarily drawn by negative emotion, the creatures still possessed adequate senses of hearing and sight.

"Water!" Ruby suddenly cheered, and heedless of any danger she tore ahead of him. Jaune followed her, albeit more cautiously, and he was rewarded by the sight of a silvery snake of a flowing stream. That was a relief. Moving water was much safer than stagnant to drink, and aura was more than sufficient to protect against potential bacteria or impurities. He kneeled and drank greedily. At his side, Ruby imitated him. When they had finished, both of them left only reluctantly.

"I don't suppose we can just take it with us," Ruby said, with a longing glance backward.

"I wish," Jaune said mournfully. "I'd kill for a bottle right now."

Now that they were getting closer, Ruby took frequent breaks to get their bearings from treetop vantage points.

"We're really close now," she said after one such trip. "I think we'll make it in under an hour. At least I hope so. It's starting to get dark."

Even though he had lost clear sight of the sky a long time ago, Jaune could feel that they didn't have much daylight left. The gloom was somehow growing even thicker, almost choking, and a bitter bite of cold punctuated the oppressive weight.

"So Jaune, where you from?" Ruby eventually asked, in a noble effort to distract from their surroundings.

Hmm. How much truth to tell?

"Vale," he lied. "Mostly, anyways. My dad's retired military, so we moved around a lot." Partial truth would make his facade easier, and multicultural upbringing would help explain any Atlesian slips he might have.

"Oh. Where'd you go to school, then?"

An innocent enough question, for most kids. For Beacon students, what it was really asking is how they learned to fight.

"Dad taught us when he could," Jaune said. "The rest was self taught."

"And you still made it into Beacon? That's amazing."

Oops.

"I was really surprised myself," he backpedaled. "Guess I got really lucky."

"I know the feeling," Ruby murmured softly. "Sometimes I think I don't belong here."

"Why? Just because you're younger? You're amazingly skilled." Draw attention back to her.

"I wanted to go to Signal, but the headmaster sent me here, instead," Ruby admitted. "I wish he hadn't. I'm not so good that I should be skipping three whole years!"

Three? Hardly. Three years was grossly underestimating her.

"Where'd you go to school? I'm surprised they didn't advance you before now."

"Homeschooled, like you," Ruby said. "My uncle taught me a lot. I was complete garbage before his help."

Unlikely.

"Who's your uncle?" Jaune asked curiously.

"Qrow Branwen. He's a teacher at Signal."

Qrow Branwen? _The_ Qrow Branwen? He was one of the few men that his father ever spoke of in high regard; merely teaching at Signal was the _least_ of his accomplishments. It would certainly explain why she was so good.

"We're here," Ruby said before he could respond. Jaune looked up. The mighty stone arm of a rocky spire loomed in front of them, reaching as if it could grasp the orange-pink sky of sunset above it.

"Look," he said, pointing at a faint glow of red, faded against the sky's brilliance. He may have missed it, were it not for the slim column of ash grey smoke wafting from it. "I think other students are there."

"You think they have food? I'm starving," Ruby complained.

"I hope they're willing to share," Jaune said. "Maybe if we sing and tell bad jokes?"

"Good ones would probably be better."

The climb was arduous, but there were enough crags and fissures that they could find purchase in the rock. Jaune led the way; Ruby was understandably hesitant to climb above him given her attire, tights or no.

Honestly, he didn't really get the whole "wear a skirt in combat." Was it just a girl thing? He was pretty sure his father would disown his sisters if any of them tried such foolishness.

Even with their exhaustion, both of them were energized by the promise of warmth, light, and company, and the climb passed swiftly. Only a few minutes passed before they dragged themselves onto an outcropping, gasping for breath. Two figures rushed to help them, firm hands aiding them through the last remaining inches.

"Finally made it," Jaune whimpered. He turned to his supporter, intending to thank them, but the words died in his throat, instead replaced by a wide grin as he saw who he had found.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha exclaimed joyously. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you again!"

::-::-::

Ruby collapsed backwards against a rock, sighing contentedly. "Thanks for the food. Haven't eaten all day."

Pyrrha's partner, a lithe, black haired girl with golden eyes, nodded once in response. "You're welcome." Her voice was quiet, a tad rough, but also warm and rich. It was a slightly paradoxical combination, but it fit perfectly with the way the girl watched everything around her with a relaxed, yet razor focused eye. Unusual, yet understandable.

As Ruby and Jaune had predicted, Pyrrha and her partner had built a small fire at the mouth of a cave in the hope of attracting the attention of other students. Even better, a small spring bubbled only a short walk away, and at some point the pair had managed to catch some fish.

Pyrrha and Jaune were happily chatting deeper inside the cave, leaving Ruby with the quiet girl across from her. The fire crackled in front of her, a dull but mesmerizing red in the pitch black of the night. "What's your name?" she asked. "I don't think I caught it."

"Blake." She turned golden eyes towards the cave. "Our partners are too occupied to introduce us, it seems. You're Ruby, right?"

Ruby raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Yep. How'd you know?"

"A guess," Blake said cryptically. "I heard some things back at Beacon. The clothes were a dead giveaway."

"I suppose they would be," Ruby chuckled. "Did you catch the fish? Pyrrha doesn't seem the type."

"Caught and cooked, yes."

"It was delicious."

"I'm glad."

A pause. "I suppose it makes sense, that a cat faunus would be good with fish."

Blake stiffened, gaze whipping back to meet Ruby, eyes blazing. "Cat faunus?"

"Aren't you?" Ruby asked in surprise. "You don't move like a human. Too graceful. And your eyes. Sorry, I just assumed. Am I wrong?"

"No, you're right," Blake said, the words dragging out agonizingly. "It's somewhat embarrassing you noticed so easily. I was trying to hide it. Faunus aren't… welcome, in a lot of places."

"Yeah," Ruby said regretfully. "Well, I think it's cool. You shouldn't hide things. People will find out eventually."

 _Oh, now isn't_ that _an ironic thing to say, Little Miss Wisdom._ _Do dispense more of your great teachings. They're just so_ relevant.

"If only everyone could be so accepting," Blake murmured.

"Someday, they will," Ruby said confidently. "There's a lot that's messed up in the world, but we can change it all. We just need to take action."

 _And I am._

Blake hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing.

Jaune and Pyrrha walked out of the cave, eyes averted from their partners in embarrassment. "Sorry about that," Jaune said. "We met each other at Beacon and wanted to catch up. Shouldn't have ditched you, though."

"No problem," Ruby said, waving a hand dismissively. "We took care of the whole introductions thing for you."

Jaune and Pyrrha took their own seats around the fire. None of the four said anything, content to rest from the strains of their day. Despite their lack of bedding, it was a warm, comfortable night, and the chirp of insects and the occasional hooting owl contributed to the tranquil atmosphere. For a while, Ruby was almost fooled into thinking it was just a camping trip. Periodically, however, terrified, agonized screams tore through the night air, ghoulishly muffled by the blanket of warmth and trees, a ghastly reminder of who- and what- else inhabited the forest.

Not everyone was lucky enough to find shelter.

Another shriek pierced the calm, but none of them flinched. The weak, careless, or plain unlucky would die in initiation. Harsh as it was, it would be far worse for them to fail when they held the lives of the innocent and helpless in their hands, as full fledged huntsmen. Here, only they bore the consequences of their failure, and for them to die in solitude was the best anyone could hope for.

The only thing worse than one death was more.

"I'll take first watch," Ruby finally said. "You guys should get some sleep."

With a grateful nod, the other three retreated deeper into the cave. It would be a rough, cold night, but they would survive. For her part, Ruby fed some more fuel into the fire from a small stack Pyrrha and Blake had gathered before settling against a boulder, eyes vigilant. The flames cast dancing shadows across the rock face, but no leering red glares accompanied them.

Time dragged on at a quiet crawl. The screams had stopped, leaving Ruby to battle the day's exhaustion in silence. Twice, she almost dozed off, only to snap back awake in a startled panic as soon as she realized. It was a hopeless struggle, and she felt her exhausted body collapse bit by bit as weighted eyelids dragged themselves shut.

She was just about to go wake one of the others to replace her when a hissed curse floated upwards from the cliff below. Curious, she darted to the edge, peering cautiously below.

"Hello?"

Her only response was another curse, louder, shriller, and very, very familiar, and she felt a rush of excitement as she fumbled with her scroll, turning on a flashlight to illuminate a path. Sure enough, only a few feet away, the piercing beam of light revealed a dirty white figure struggled valiantly to climb upward, arms shaking with exertion. As soon as she was in reach, Ruby bent down, practically yanking the other girl through the air in her enthusiasm.

"I am _never_ going to climb a bloody mountain at night again, Grimm or no!" Weiss Schnee complained, words directed at an unseen recipient below her. "So you keep your idiotic ideas to yourself!"

Another girl's voice echoed back in response. Ruby couldn't catch the words, but Weiss did, because she reacted with an irritated huff.

"And you!" she snapped, this time directed at Ruby. "What were you thinking, shining that insufferable light in my eyes! Were you trying to blind me?"

"Weiss!" Ruby cried, scroll forgotten in her joy. "You're alive!"

Instantly, Weiss's face drained of color, and she took a reflexive, horrified step backwards. "Ruby?" She whispered. "Oh no, no, no. No, not now."

"Aww, come on," Ruby pouted. "That's how you greet me? Am I really that bad?"

"No! Not that," Weiss rambled. "Look, my life's been insane, and there's some news I needed to tell you but I didn't get the chance, obviously, so I just need you to stay calm and-"

"Weiss…" Ruby said suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"It's my partner-"

"Anyone mind giving me a hand down here?" a cheerful voice called out. Ruby frowned, suddenly struck by an immense sense of familiarity. Where had she heard that voice before?

She took a step forward to help, but Weiss blocked her, pushing her back with a shaking hand.

"Weiss?"

"My partner. You know her already. It's- it's- I need you to promise me you'll stay calm."

"Guess not," the voice called out with a tinge of crossness. "Fine, fine, coming up!"

"Stay calm!" Weiss gasped, desperately pleading, but as a head of long golden hair vaulted onto the outcropping her words went unheeded.

For the first time in nearly a decade, silver eyes met amethyst ones.

Ruby's scroll fell out of slack hands, bouncing off the rock slab with a sickly crack. The brilliant white light was snuffed in an instant, leaving only the dark flickers of a dying fire to witness a long delayed reunion.

Two sisters stared at each other with wide eyed, undisguised shock.

"Yang?"

::-::-::

Weiss was very, very stressed.

As soon as she had seen Ruby's reaction, the heiress knew that the worst case scenario had been realized; Ruby was unstable, wild, and unpredictable. The younger girl took one halting step backward, then another, before disappearing into the inky darkness in a red blur. Yang swiveled to watch her, one hand absently coming up to catch one of the delicate rose petals that drifted through the air.

"She has a semblance now," Yang murmured sadly. "When did that happen? She barely even had aura before."

 _Yes, it turns out people change in seven years. Quite a surprise, isn't it?_

Not that Weiss could say that. As far as their cover was concerned, she had only met Ruby yesterday.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," she informed her partner, and the insuring glare came effortlessly. "You know her? Bad history?"

"That's one way to put it. I didn't- didn't expect her to be here. How'd she even get into Beacon? She's too young."

"Too young? What do you mean?"

Yang sighed shakily, and now that she looked more carefully Weiss realized the older sister had been affected as well; she trembled in violent bursts, before returning to statue-like stillness. For someone who almost never stopped moving in some way or another, it was a startling change.

"I'll explain everything later. I don't think now's the time."

 _You better._

Weiss turned regretfully in the direction Ruby had gone; the darkness stretched in a thick sheet, challenging her to enter and be devoured. As much as she wanted, there was no way she could find her partner. Ruby would hopefully be ok, but as good as the reaper was her current, negative state would draw Grimm like a lure.

There was nothing Weiss could do. Better to die alone than to drag others with you.

A nimble shadow slunk out of the cave, startling both the heiress and her partner. Both of them instinctively reached for their weapons, but the other figure stepped into the fire light, revealing a graceful girl with long black hair and shining amber eyes.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," the girl said. "I heard voices."

Mind still whirling, Weiss automatically fell into seventeen years of ingrained etiquette training. "My apologies. My partner and I saw your fire and came to investigate. Are you the other girl's partner?"

"No. There are more of us inside." The black haired girl gestures behind her, eyes focused on Yang. If she wondered where Ruby had gone, she gave no sign of it. Probably she had heard the whole thing. "You're welcome to stay the night, but we may wake you to take a watch."

As expected. "Very well. We will be happy to take your offer, then." She elbowed Yang sharply, but the blonde barely reacted. "Won't we?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Yang said distractedly. "Thanks."

The other girl nodded. "Sleep. Introductions can wait until tomorrow."

Weiss made her way into the cave, steps hesitant in the blackness, before giving up and lying down where she was on the cold stone. Even with her exhaustion, the unyielding rock and chill night air left her with crippling discomfort, and all of her tossing and turning just applied more pain to her body.

 _Why did I ever agree to follow this disaster?_

The answer, a little girl in a red hood, had abandoned her, lost somewhere in the night.

When sleep finally came, it was worried, uneasy, and fitful.

::-::-::

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading. All of your guys attention, especially the reviews, means a lot. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me motivated. I'm happy to see people enjoy this story, because half the time I don't even like it. Maybe all writers doubt their own work?

Anyways, this chapter has way more dialogue than my previous chapters. I'm experimenting with my style. Not sure how I feel about it yet, but at least it's evolving…?

Next chapter will probably conclude initiation, and with it the complete departure from anything similar to canon events, but we'll see. This is already far longer than I had expected, but my initial plan felt too rushed, so this happened instead.

Please review! It might be inconvenient, but it makes writers inordinately happy. Or at least it does for me. No matter what you say, it's all helpful!


	8. He Who Hesitates III

**Chapter 8**

 _ **He Who Hesitates III**_

Weiss awoke the following morning with a savage ache, courtesy of the rocky ground. As she struggled to her feet, her aura began to repair the damage, and she couldn't help but sigh in relief once the pain began to dissipate.

She stumbled out of the cave blearily. The pale orange pink dawn sky loomed above her mockingly, and she felt an irrational surge of indignation. A tall blonde boy sat by the fire, tending it absently, and as she approached him he looked up in surprise.

"Rough night?" He asked sympathetically.

"Yes," Weiss said, too tired to pretend otherwise. "You been out here long?"

"Not really," he said with a shrug. "Blake took most of the watch. She's the black haired girl," he explained. "Don't know if you've met yet."

"We did," Weiss said. She couldn't stop a grimace from forming as the previous night's events came rushing back to memory. What a disaster.

"I know she can be somewhat… terse," the boy said, misinterpreting her expression. "But she's really nice at heart. I promise."

"No, not that," Weiss corrected. "A friend of mine ran off last night. Small girl, red hood. Have you seen her at all?"

"Ruby?" the boy said. "I'm her partner. I haven't seen her in a while, though. Was wondering where she was."

"She had a rather nasty shock," Weiss muttered grimly. "I'll going to go find her. I'll tell her you're looking for her too. What's your name?"

"Jaune," he said, offering a hand to her. "Short, sweet, ladies love it."

Weiss took his hand distastefully. "Don't count on that."

"Ouch," the boy mourned. "I'm one and two now."

"I'm Weiss Schnee," the heiress said, ignoring Jaune's comment. "If anyone asks where I went, tell them I'm looking for Ruby."

"Will do. I'd offer to go with you, but I'm technically on watch."

 _I would really rather you not, anyways._

Weiss followed the general direction Ruby had taken off in. The outcropping gradually narrowed to a thin path. Sheer rock walls towered over it, so smooth that even a huntress would find it nearly impossible to traverse them; it was an advantageous fact, since it limited the options she'd have to search. The heiress moved at an urgent half walk, half jog, anxious to find what had become of the young assassin.

The path gradually sloped upward, curving around the mountain in a sharp spiral. Weiss climbed it relentlessly, occasionally struggling to find purchase in the rough rock, until she was at last rewarded with the sight of a small summit. Sure enough, a small red figure sat in the dead center, watching the rising sun with hollow eyes. With a surge of relief, Weiss noticed the other girl was unharmed, before irritation rushed in. She stalked forward, ready to unleash a tirade, but when she saw Ruby's face the words died in her mouth. Instead, she opted to gingerly sit beside her.

"How are you?" She asked softly. It was hopelessly inadequate, but she didn't have a single clue what else to say. People were much more confusing than information and plans.

"Fine," Ruby said. "Beautiful sunrise, isn't it?"

"Look," Weiss said hesitantly. "I'm sure last night was quite a shock. Are you sure-"

"I'm fine, Weiss," Ruby interrupted. "Honestly."

 _But there's no way you are._

"Honestly," Ruby murmured, more to herself than anything.

"Alright," Weiss said, unwilling to push the matter further. Ruby's eyes were bloodshot, almost crazed, an impression only exaggerated by the thick bags underneath them. Weiss doubted she had slept at all. "We should probably head back. Can you walk?"

 _Are you ready to?_

Ruby got to her feet awkwardly, hood rustling softly as she stumbled. "Been sitting too long anyways." She steadied herself with a stretch, and Weiss was suddenly struck by how small she was.

"Look," Ruby said, "I know you want to, but don't talk about Yang. I'm here for a mission, and I won't let it distract me."

 _You're going to have to deal with it sometime,_ Weiss thought sadly. She nodded tersely to show she understood, and the two girls backtracked down the path. Weiss noticed with no small amount of irritation that despite her sleep deprivation, Ruby effortlessly skipped down the rough terrain. The heiress, for her part, found it no easier to go down than it had been to go up.

When they arrived back at the makeshift camp, she was surprised to see that two new members had joined the group. One, a slim boy with long black hair, waved to her as she approached. By his side, a girl with bright orange hair and an even brighter voice chatted animatedly, and Weiss smirked slightly at the boy's expression of long-suffering patience.

"Welcome back," Jaune called out. "You alright? Where were you?" he asked Ruby, and Weiss knew what he was really asking; _do you trust me enough to tell me?_

"Fine," Ruby said flatly, ignoring the second part of the question. Weiss winced in sympathy as Jaune shrank away. Now _that_ was a partnership going poorly. "Who are you two?" The last part was directed at the two newcomers.

"Lie Ren," the boy said. His voice was soft, but solid, filled with a quiet confidence, and Weiss found herself silently approving. A good man, in all likelihood. The girl opened her mouth, but he put a finger over her lips, and she closed it obediently. "This is Nora. She's my partner."

If Nora was irritated about not being allowed to introduce herself, she gave no sign of it. She waved happily, both arms drawing exaggerated circles in the air, and Weiss sighed to herself; the _last_ thing she wanted was another excessively energetic nutcase to go along with her own irritating, blonde partner.

"They came right after you left," Jaune explained. "It sounds like they found a promising lead yesterday."

Ren nodded in confirmation. "There's a set of massive ruins further up the mountain. We didn't get the chance to see much, but there were definitely traces of dust usage."

"They were _huge,"_ Nora chimed in. "Like, bigger than Ren's brain. Which is pretty big."

Weiss shot a sidelong glance at Ruby, who shrugged. "Sounds promising. Do you think the staff hid the relics there?"

"We should check it out," Ruby said. "Once everyone's awake."

"I bet they're there. It sounds like a dungeon," Jaune commented. He received four sets of blank stares for his trouble. "What? Have none of you played an RPG?"

"What's that?" Ruby asked hesitantly. Jaune shook his head in mock disapproval.

"I'll show you once we pass initiation. I can't believe it. Did you guys have no childhood?"

 _No, as a matter of fact, we didn't._

"I still don't know what it is!" Ruby protested. Jaune laid a patronizing arm across her shoulders, but she squirmed away.

"You'll see. There's a fantastic new world out there, waiting for you."

Before Ruby could respond, a muffled clank drew their attention to the cave. Pyrrha walked out sheepishly.

"I'm sorry to keep everyone waiting. Have you been awake long?"

Jaune waved her apology off. "Most of us haven't. I have, but I was on watch."

"We should wake the others up," Weiss interrupted, growing weary of the increasingly pointless small talk. "If we're going to explore these ruins, we better do it soon, and I'd like to at the very least know what everyone in our group is capable of."

If they were going to work together, she was absolutely going to know what everyone was capable of before she even _entertained_ the possibility of trusting them with her life.

::-::-::

After everyone joined in on a hurried introduction, the group set off for the ruins. As the one who had found them before, Ren led the way. Nora, predictably, was near worthless when it came to directions. He led them deeper through through the rock formations, where the natural canyons they traversed were interrupted only by the occasional murderous drop. Weiss wondered how he managed to keep everything straight; she had completely lost track after all the twists and turns. Everyone moved in silence, reminded of the Grimm's presence by the periodic shriek of a nevermore.

Finally, the dusty beige sandstone walls gave way to a wide, ancient bridge. Blocks of carefully fitted granite had been forced apart by harder lichen, and the artistic juxtaposition of green on grey gave the whole structure a mystic vibe. Across from them, barely visible in the distance, the broken remains of once tall pillars and decrepit arches marked the ruins they were searching for. A massive scorch mark across the entirety of a pillar drew Weiss's attention. As an expert manipulator of dust, she immediately recognized for what it was: the aftermath of an explosion. A recent one, too; the Beacon faculty were almost certainly responsible.

"We're here," Ren said.

There was an awkward silence as the group looked around uncertainly, each of them unwilling to take the lead.

"We should split up and search the area," Weiss finally commanded, weary of the hesitation. "Go with your partners." She reached into the pouch at her waist and pulled out several gleaming red crystals. "Everyone take one of these. If you're in trouble, or if you find anything noteworthy, throw it in the air and detonate it."

The other members obeyed, drifting off across the bridge until all of them disappeared behind the rubble, leaving Weiss alone with her partner. They stared at each other in a tense silence, both uncomfortable after the events of the previous night.

"So are you going to tell me what's between you and Ruby?" Weiss was the first to break the silence. "Because the way you two are acting is creeping me out."

Yang stretched languidly, a lazy grin etched onto her face. "Now? I know I promised you I'd tell you and all, but is this really the time?"

"Yes," Weiss stated bluntly. "Everyone can tell something is wrong, but none of them will bring it up, and it's going to mess with our performance. I want to know why."

"Alright then. Suit yourself," Yang said. Weiss bristled at the other girl's flippant tone. "Might as well start at the beginning. How much do you know about Ruby?"

"Not much. She's from Patch and she's young for Beacon. How do you two know each-"

A deafening bang tore through Weiss's hearing, and she whirled around in surprise. Three brilliant columns of flame burned in the air, visible even in the bright glare of the morning sun, and she cursed softly.

 _You're off the hook for now, Yang._

Still, for all three signals to go off simultaneously was very, very bad news.

"That was fast," she grumbled. "And here I was thinking we could go at least a _few_ minutes without a crisis."

"At least it's exciting."

The two of them ran at a headlong sprint, but they hadn't made it more than halfway down the bridge before the sight before them yanked Weiss to a dead stop. Six tiny specks of color fled before a rolling tide of black as an uncountable horde of beowolves chased her teammates. The creatures moved like a singular organism, their bounding hides the rippling muscle of some greater monstrosity, and for one brief moment Weiss felt the icy grip of despair. What could they do? Six mere students, not even full fledged huntsmen, against an unstoppable force of their most feared predators. They were all doomed to die. It was impossible.

But they were huntresses. It was their job to defy the impossible.

"Hey guys!" Ruby screamed. "I think we found some Grimm!"

At the younger girl's words, Weiss's fear shed off her like water from an oiled coat. She dashed forward to help her comrades, Myrtenaster gleaming silver white in the midday sun, Yang on her heels. The six others rallied around them, weapons ready, the grimm only seconds away.

"What's the plan?" Jaune gasped, and seven pairs of eyes swiveled directly at Weiss. She opened her mouth to protest; why look at her, she was a student like them, she had no experience, she wasn't a leader!

But she was a Schnee, and so if a leader is what they needed, a leader is what she would be.

In bits and pieces, sections of training manuals on elementary military tactics that she had perused on a whim back in Atlas returned to her memory. Almost all teams of huntsman developed their own highly unique style, given that almost no one team was similar to any others, but the relative regularity of a common footsoldier allowed militaries to establish general protocol for their troops.

She didn't know how applicable it was for huntsmen cadets. Hopefully it was enough.

"Jaune, Pyrrha, take the front!" she barked. "Yang, Nora, one line behind, you're on reserve. Everyone else, stay back, shoot anything you can, and watch for nevermore! Ruby, prioritize any critical targets you spot!"

Weiss had to admit that she was pleased when her fellow students obeyed her without protest. It was flattering, in a way, that they trusted her enough to follow her commands.

"Fire!" she screamed as the Grimm loomed before them, and with a loud thunk of her weapon, Nora obeyed. An incandescent pink dust grenade blazed a burning trail into the grimm horde, followed by a massive explosion that produced a fountain of coal black particles and ancient stone shards as it tore a gaping hole in the massed charge. More weapons rattled to life, spewing ballistic rounds into the beowolf ranks, but the durable creatures fell all too slowly. Heedless of their losses, they pressed on, their impetus driving them forward.

 _I need to slow them._

It was a good thing she had the entirety of the near limitless Schnee arsenal at her disposal. Weiss channeled her aura into Myrtenaster, and with a poised thrust a stream of ice flew through the gap between her teammates. It exploded across the ground in razor spikes, impaling beowolves as they were driven forward by the weight of those behind them. Some of them collapsed across the ground, slowing the advance, but most of them died outright. Stressed as it was by the onslaught, her makeshift barrier collapsed almost immediately, and before Weiss could shout a warning the grimm were upon them.

Jaune and Pyrrha stumbled backwards, nearly overwhelmed by the force, and for one heartstopping moment Weiss was certain that the line would fail and they would be overwhelmed. Impossibly, the two regained their footing, unbreakable shields holding lethal claws and teeth at bay. Nora and Yang rushed forward to help, weapons blazing. With a wild swing, Crocea Mors decapitated an attacking beowolf at the same time Ember Cecilia caved another one of the creature's skulls. Both of them dissipated, but they were instantly replaced by more.

"Hold the line!" Weiss screamed, unnerved by how the makeshift formation of her inexperienced comrades wavered as they struggled to stay together. Every time they unwittingly split from each other, however slightly, they were exposed to greater danger from multiple attacks, and eventually a lucky blow got through. Yang was the first casualty, screaming in pain and fury as a beowolf ripped a long gash in her arm before bowling her over with a weighty arm. She collapsed backward, but Ren moved to cover her, filling the gap before any grimm could get through.

Weiss fired off several bursts of white hot flame to buy a precious few fractions of a second, incinerating a row of the Grimm in the process, before dashing to Yang and dragging her back. The blonde hissed in pain, hand clenched to her wound, but her aura worked quickly to stem the flow of blood.

"I'm alright," Yang gasped as she leapt to her feet. "Lost focus for a second."

It was an impossible demand, to perfectly track everything in the chaotic melee. Weiss was about to say so when a piercing shriek yanked her attention to the skies. Two giant nevermores dove towards them, wings outstretched, lethal pinions gleaming. She opened her mouth to scream a warning, but before her throat could formulate sound there was a sharp crack behind her and one of the grimm vaporized before her eyes, with only a wispy contrail to mark the sniper round that had brought its demise. With resolute determination, Ruby hammered her weapon back to readiness, scanning the battle before her for another target.

Blake dealt with the other one. Gambol Shroud embedded itself in the bird like grimm's chest before the cat faunus swung from her weapon's ribbon onto the creature's back with inhuman agility. It didn't even have time to scream before a hail of bullets found its beady red eyes, instantly shattering it into black specks.

 _This is absolute insanity,_ Weiss thought despairingly.

An incomprehensible scream from Jaune was all the warning she received before their line finally broke and the beowolves poured through.

If the fight was messy before, it was absolute chaos now. Any facade of order that their formation had brought before was instantly shattered, swept away in a black wave of fangs and claws. A pair of beowolves lunged at her, and she scrambled to erect an ice wall to hold them at bay. Her creation was fractured and shamshod, but it slowed them long enough for her to dispatch one with a thrust through the eye. The other one lashed out at her, though, and she flinched, unable to bring her weapon to bear in time.

To her shock, the beast dissolved before razor claws punctured her aura. Behind it, Jaune flailed wildly with sword and shield, and Weiss realized that he must have killed her attacker, probably through sheer dumb luck. Amazingly, Jaune not only had avoided hitting any of the huntresses around him, he was still completely unharmed himself.

 _Is it humanly possible to be so lucky?_

Weiss dashed forward, positioning herself behind him and the safety of his heavy armor. She watched for openings and flanking enemies, filling in the gaps in Jaune's defense with precise thrusts or blasts of elemental dust. Twice, she screamed as lethal strikes circumvented his defense, but both times he turned the blows aside at the last possible moment. Once, a flanking beowolf caught her off guard, but before it could strike a darting black shadow eviscerated it before fading back into the chaos.

She hoped Blake wasn't the only other one still alive. It was all she could do to keep herself and Jaune in one piece, let alone worry about the others.

After what felt like hours, and yet also mere seconds, under their combined efforts, the tide of grimm began to slow, then stop. As if commanded by a single mind, the survivors withdrew slowly, creating an ever widening gap until they completely fled, leaving only the remaining huntsmen and huntresses alone on the bridge.

"Status report," Weiss gasped, limbs shaking uncontrollably. "Is everyone ok?"

Various cries of affirmation echoed back to her, and she took a moment to check on the other survivors. To her immense relief, all of them were alive, although most of them sported injuries. Yang and Nora were the worst off, both with nasty crimson gashes, but Ren and Blake escaped with only a multitude of smaller cuts, and Pyrrha had only suffered a single scratch to her forehead. Ruby and Jaune were both unharmed; the former made sense, given her skill and backline position, but Jaune? How?

"I think we're all ok," Pyrrha said with a sigh of relief.

"How about you, boss?" Yang chuckled weakly. "You're bleeding too, you know."

Weiss looked down in surprise. Sure enough, her right leg was stained dark red, but it had somehow escaped her notice. "I'm alright. It looks worse than it feels."

"Is that it, then?" Jaune gasped. "We won, right?"

No. There was no way. Grimm never gave up, they never retreated, something was wrong, only she couldn't put the pieces together, what could she possibly be missing-

Blake shook her shoulder roughly. "Can you hear that?"

Weiss strained to hear, but nothing came to her except the low key whine of the rushing mountain wind. "I can't hear anything unusual."

"It's a… clicking kind of sound. Chittering. Behind us."

"How fast? Is it rapid or slower?" Ren interrupted.

"About a couple times a second."

"Deathstalker," the boy stated bluntly. "A big one, too. The slower the click, the larger the carapace. Less joints."

Well, that was just fantastic.

"Excuse me, what's a deathstalker?" Pyrrha asked hesitantly.

Ah, right, most people didn't read the orientation manuals.

"A giant scorpion," Ren explained. "Very poisonous, and very tough. They're one of the main reasons huntsmen teams always bring anti-armor weapons."

"Anti-armor?" Weiss mused. "Yang, Nora, how do you feel about smashing a bug?"

"Sounds like a _blast_!" Yang crowed.

Silence.

"That was awful," Blake commented.

"Terrible," Ren agreed.

"Yang," Weiss growled, "your speaking privileges are revoked."

"Aww, c'mon! It wasn't _that_ bad!"

Pyrrha raised an armored hand, cutting off the blonde's protest. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the beowolves are back."

At the opposite end of the bridge, the beowolves had regrouped. The mass of glowing red eyes watched them hungrily, but they held still, content to watch and wait.

Weiss grimaced. Initially, her plan had been for the whole team to fight the deathstalker together, but doing so now would bring certain death if the beowolves collapsed on them. Neither could they fight together on the bridge, the deathstalker would find them perfect prey for a brutal _pincer_ attack.

Ugh. Only a day with Yang and her brain cells were already rotting.

Their only option was to split, which meant that either party ran a much higher risk of being overwhelmed, but what could they do?

"Alright," Weiss said with a deep, nervous breath. "Here's the plan."

::-::-::

"Let's go squish some buggies!" Nora hollered, an orange, white, a pink blur as she sprinted headlong through over the rough mountain trails.

Yang couldn't help but flash a feral grin at the other huntress, heart racing in anticipation. "Half for me, half for you?"

"Nah. First come, first serve!"

"You're on."

The trail came to an abrupt stop at a flat summit, forcing both huntresses to stumble to an awkward stop. Dusty red boulders littered the ground, and Nora rubbed a small one curiously. The rock crumbled between her fingers like chalk.

"Almost time," Yang said with an excited whoop. She pointed downward, where a towering black and white carapace shot toward them. Despite the creature's massive size, it scaled the treacherous rock like a nimble mountain goat. Nora fired a grenade at it, but she overshot, and the projectile spun harmlessly past before exploding uselessly below. She brought the weapon to bear on the deathstalker's skittering form, but before she could take another shot it crested the summit and launched itself directly at them.

Up close, it was positively massive. The body main body alone was easily six feet tall and a dozen feet long, protected by thick chitin plates that clicked as it moved. A wicked stinger perched upon a thick, curved tail, and centered between two gargantuan claws, a score of beady red eyes glared unblinkingly at the two huntresses.

Yang charged fearlessly to meet it. Nimbly dodging around a lethal swipe, she pounded an armored fist straight into the grimm with a teeth rattling shockwave. but the deathstalker shrugged it off easily. The tail snapped towards her, and she barely threw herself to the side in time. The stinger smashed into the ground like a heavy spear, sending hairline fissures spiraling through the ground. Already off balance, the impact sent her sprawling, but she recovered with a tumbling roll.

"Fire in the hole!" Nora hollered joyously. A crackling explosion marked the impact of her hammer with the grimm, and the deathstalker shied away, screeching in fury. She used the momentum of her blow to launch herself away, and razor claws passed impotently underneath her as the creature's counterattack came too late.

Yang tried to rush forward while the grimm was distracted, but she was too slow, and a flurry of swipes forced her back, the pincers whistling sharply as they cut through the air. A luminescent blast bloomed to life across chitinous carapace, eliciting another screech of pain, and the deathstalker spun angrily to face Nora. She shot it a cheery wink before ducking behind a rocky outcropping, already moving to hammer another grenade into her launcher.

Yang realized her mistake a moment too late.

"Watch out!" she cried, as a jet black stinger aligned itself with her teammate's hiding place. She hurled herself at the tail with a vicious hook that would have easily floored a human twice her weight, but against the grimm's implacable bulk she barely threw its aim off. The stinger hit the rock with all the force of a ballistic missile, sending a shower of dusty red debris hurtling through the air. Even with her vision clouded by the grime, Yang heard Nora loose an agonized scream, and all she could do was desperately hope that somehow her new friend had avoided the creature's venom.

A sharp pebble whipped by her, leaving a long trail of blood across her cheek, and for one glorious moment, the world froze in place. She took a deep breath, and her lungs filled with a spicy tang of anticipation.

Then she saw red.

Her hair erupted into an inferno, and she loosed a feral war cry as the deathstalker bore down on her, pincers raised menacingly, tail poised to strike. She caught it off guard, smashing a fist directly into its eyes with a burst of semblance enhanced speed before following up with a furious flurry of blows. Sharp cracks rang in cascades as her assault left the deathstalker staggering. It tried to fend her off with a swing of a pincer, but Yang leapt deftly over it, striking out with her downward momentum with a merciless slam. At last unable to withstand the abuse, the creature's carapace fractured slightly, and Yang cackled in triumph over the sign of

weakness. She stepped forward, ready to deliver the finishing blow, before a dark shadow apparated underneath her. The oddity pulled her gaze upward, just in time for a massive boulder to fill her vision, still spinning from the force with which it had been thrown.

Then her world exploded into all consuming pain.

Her legs collapsed underneath her like brittle twigs. Blearily, she fought for consciousness as her vision swam, the pounding thump of her own heart drowning all other sounds out. The shattered remains of the rock clung to the deathstalker's tail, and despite her fiercest attempts her body refused to respond to her commands.

One giant pincer came crashing down, and all Yang knew was that she was about to die.

 _Weiss is going to be so annoyed, huh. Guess she'll never get her questions answered._

And then there was red.

::-::-::

"Get up."

It was a cold, harsh, uncaring voice, all the more disturbing for its youth. As the world slowly sharpened into focus, the first thing Yang saw was the deathstalker scuttling away cautiously, one injured pincer bleeding black ichor. In stark contrast, looming over her like a scarlet sentinel was the last person she would have expected to see.

"Ruby?"

::-::-::

"Status!" Weiss screamed, voice twisted into a warbling shriek by exhaustion. Rivulets of sweat mixed with blood ran down her face, staining her once pristine clothing a sickly red. Around her, the still decaying corpses of untold Grimm cast a thick curtain of black upwards. "Everyone still alive?"

Jaune raised a trembling hand, bent double over his sword in exaggerated weakness. "I'm alright," he said, taking care to interject ragged gasps into his breathing. Theatrics, naturally. A couple of beowolves would hardly be enough to tire him. A few feet away, Pyrrha mirrored him with a faint smile, but unlike himself and Weiss she showed no sign of exertion.

"I am unharmed," the champion said, "but I'm afraid the other two are injured."

"I'm hurt pretty badly," Blake confirmed. She probed the edges of a vicious gash along her side but pulled back with a strangled hiss. "My aura's shot. Not sure how much I can move."

"Ren's unconscious," Jaune added. "But he's alive."

"Fantastic," Weiss growled. "At least three of us can – nevermore!"

A black shadow across the burning sun was their only warning of the impending attack. They dove for cover among the ruined arches, Jaune dragging Blake with him just in time to avoid the volley of ebony feathers that lanced into the crumbling rock. Far above them, the grimm twisted about for another pass.

 _It's massive,_ Jaune realized. _Far bigger than normal._ Bigger Grimm meant older ones: stronger, faster –

Smarter.

"What's the plan?" Pyrrha shouted. Before anyone could respond, the nevermore shrieked, giving them just enough time to shrink further back into cover before another volley of ebony feathers impacted the ground. Jaune grimaced when he saw how deep they penetrated. A foot into solid rock, easily.

"I've got an idea," Weiss cried once the noise had subsided. "Just distract it!"

Jaune immediately realized what she was going to do. The student dossiers had included information about their combat capabilities, and he knew that the Schnee's glyphs gave her immense flexibility over battlefield mobility. In all likelihood, she would either try to maneuver herself into position for a freezing blast from Myrtenaster or restrain the nevermore's movements with the glyphs themselves.

It was a hopeless, foolish plan. Causing a distraction for a teammate might very well work against lesser grimm, but a massive nevermore was an ancient one, veteran of countless battles, and the grimm that lived learned very, very quickly to target any aura spikes. No matter the distraction, as soon as Weiss started channeling her glyphs, she wouldn't stand a chance.

Jaune Arc knew this, of course. But Student-Jaune didn't.

"Understood!" Pyrrha said, and Jaune bit back a disparaging retort. She was a champion, but champions fought other people, not grimm. In this case, it was a costly inexperience.

 _You have one job, Jaune Arc, and protecting your classmates is not part of it. If they must suffer the price of their ineptitude, so be it._

Excessive competence would raise questions. He didn't need questions.

And so when Pyrrha dashed out from cover with rattling bursts of textbook-disciplined fire, he did nothing but stumble after her awkwardly. When Weiss's aura blazed like a lighthouse in the darkness with the effort of summoning her glyphs, when they blurred into form behind her, rings in rings in rings, he offered no word of warning. When the nevermore turned from Pyrrha's distraction with a piercing shriek, sending razor pinions knifing through the air in an instant, his shield did not move.

And when a white clad girl was impaled ruthlessly to the rock and her blood ran in streams through the cracks, he felt nothing.

 **A/N:**

IT'S ALIIIIIVE.

I hate this chapter. I could probably fix it, but it almost killed the story as is. If you liked it, great! If you didn't, it's the same for me. It'll improve. Probably.

Didn't realize it's been 4 months since the last update. Sorry about that. I'm kinda rusty now too =_=

Thanks for the follows, favs, and especially the reviews. Your support is highly appreciated.

Please review!


	9. He Who Hesitates IV

**EDIT** : ate my line breaks. I think it's been fixed, and sorry to anybody who read before I changed it.

 **Chapter 9**

 _ **He Who Hesitates IV**_

" _Weiss!"_ Pyrrha screamed impotently, eyes transfixed on the bloody figure before her. This wasn't right, they'd been doing so well, they couldn't fail now, Weiss couldn't _die-_

 _Get ahold of yourself, Pyrrha. You're a champion! Act like one!_

But her thoughts tumbled around in a chaotic, seething mass, evading her desperate grasps at coherency. This was her fault, she was supposed to be the best, her team had been relying on her, if only she'd provided a more capable distraction, if she'd moved a little faster she could have shielded Weiss, but she didn't and she hadn't and now it was too late-

She knew a thousand ways to control a match against a fellow human or faunus, how to maneuver, where to aim, timing, position, distance, semblance, scouting an opponent's semblance- but what use was that against death given form, the culmination of humanity's predatory for millennia? Meaningless, meaningless, all meaningless-

The nevermore dove for her, wings beating tangible blasts of air at her. She squinted against the gusts that whipped at her hair, red strands torn to and fro in a uncontrollable whirl, her hands perfectly still with despairing calm. She paused for one drawn out moment before firing one last defiant burst, eyes already closing in acceptance.

Right before gargantuan talons found her, she felt a sharp pressure coil around her midriff before yanking her backwards to safety. She tumbled roughly to the ground, choked, wheezing gasps forced out by the abuse. She lay flat on the ground for only a moment before narrowed golden eyes appeared only inches from her own. Blake said nothing, but as the cat Faunus tried and failed to struggle to her feet with a hiss of agony, Pyrrha's heart twisted in shame. What had she been _doing_?

The redhead rose smoothly, Blake's weapon falling in loose loops around her.

Regret later. For now, she had a bird to pin and three other lives to save. Pyrrha gave the other girl a weak smile.

"Thank you." The Faunus didn't answer, but Pyrrha was certain she received a minuscule nod in response.

She'd lost her head, for a moment. It wouldn't happen again. This nevermore was gargantuan, true, and she'd never dueled anything so large, but ultimately it didn't matter. Combat boiled down to the same few principles, after all, and you didn't become a champion without mastering the basics. When the nevermore dove again, she was ready.

The nevermore blazed towards her like a steel feathered lightning bolt, but as it drew closer the half forgotten voice of her coach echoed unexpectedly through her mind.

 _Move your feet, idiot girl, your feet! You call that movement? You would disgrace a slug! No, a brick! No, that's an insult to bricks! Your feet, curse you!_

She darted forward into the bird's descent, before leaping upwards with a savage thrust of her spear towards its left wing. Caught off guard and unable to realign its girth, the nevermore drove itself onto the point, and even its natural defenses folded under the pressure of its own momentum. It's shriek of pain mingled with Pyrrha's shout of triumph in discordant cacophony, a piercing reverb that only intensified as it flailed at her helplessly.

 _What are you doing, you idiot girl! He has long reach and you do not, so why do you stand there and swing away like a drunken thug?!_

 _No, not that close! Do you not see you have a spear? A spear, girl! With how you use it I may as well give you a club! Stay further away! Medium, medium, that is not medium what are you doing–_

 _And move your feet!_

She kept close to the nevermore's body, staying flush even as it twisted to strike at her. It stumbled awkwardly across the ground, trying to break away with animalistic desperation, but Pyrrha kept up her dogged pressure, even though her weapon merely skittered across the durable exterior. Their lethal deadlock dragged on, the grimm struggling to escape with its injured wing and her unable to wound it further.

A shrill, warbling shriek joined the din of her duel, and out of the corner of her eye she caught the yellow blur of Jaune sprinting headlong at the nevermore, sword grasped in a hamfistted double hand grip. Even with the barest attention, she could tell he was absolutely clueless – his footwork was a clumsy disaster, his white knuckled death grip on his weapon only served to display his naked terror – what was he doing?

She wanted to scream at him to stay back, he couldn't die, she didn't need _another_ death at the hands of her ineptitude, didn't he understand? She was a champion. Champions fought duels and only duels; they were the ultimate paragons of single combat. Champions didn't need others alongside them; indeed, others were an unnecessary complication. The only thing he would do was get himself killed.

And yet despite his fear, despite his lack of skill, he still rushed to her aid. He could have hid, he could have watched. She didn't need him; she stood worlds apart from him. She was at the pinnacle of a mountain of combat prowess, and he still miles from even the base, and yet he ran forward regardless, arm outstretched towards her with what meagre offering he could provide.

A strong man could aid her, and it would be a credit to him. But for a weak man to do so, for no reason other than a tentative friendship?

That was a hero.

And at that moment she realized that there was no man as brave, loyal, and honest as Jaune Arc.

::-::-::

After only seconds of watching her, Jaune Arc was absolutely certain that Pyrrha Nikos would lose to the nevermore.

She was fluid, precise, and intelligent, and if it had been a human or faunus she was fighting he had little doubt that she would dismantle them handily. In fact, he wasn't entirely certain even he could best her, especially with the effect of her semblance.

But the Grimm didn't follow the same rules, and she was playing the wrong game.

She struck again and again for lethal blows, but the nevermore was simply too large and too fast for that to be effective. A spear point or gunshot to the eye could be deflected by only a slim twitch, and although she would find little trouble with mere beowolves or other similarly sized beasts, the exceptionally large ones required a little more work. Strike at their joints, limit their options, whittle them down slowly, and only when they were crippled was it possible to deliver the finishing blow.

A bodyguard knew this. Grimm were some of the most common threats to clients. A champion, evidently, did not. Deliberately attempting to cripple an opponent would be a despicable strategy in a match, after all. Wounding the nevermore's wing to partially ground it had been a good first step, but Jaune was beginning to suspect that it had been a coincidal opening.

And so he found himself in a dangerous conundrum. Pyrrha would lose without him, that much was certain, but involving himself presented a slew of risks. If he moved a little too fast, or struck a little too accurately, or reacted from experience he shouldn't have, he could easily trigger suspicion. Student Jaune needed to be lovable but ultimately harmless, if he was to most effectively investigate his classmates. Attention was acceptable, advantageous even. Scrutiny was not.

If he simply allowed the battle to run its course, however, he would eventually be forced into a situation where he need fight or else die to the rampaging grimm. At that point, concealing his full capabilities would be impossible, if indeed he was capable of victory at all.

He had little choice, then. He would just have to do his best to make their success seem like luck. A difficult task, but he was an Arc. They routinely achieved the impossible.

He surged forward with his best imitation of his youngest sister's scream, the sheer unnaturalness of it tearing his throat raw. Hopefully, it would detract attention from what he was about to do.

This was not what he expected from his first assignment.

::-::-::

When the unholy cacophony of cataclysmic screeching reached her, Blake's ears flattened against her skull in protest. She glared at the figure in front of her as he lurched and stumbled towards the nevermore. Miracle he wasn't dead. Too bad. Her ears would appreciate it.

She should probably feel bad about thinking that. She probably would, later.

She'd seen a lot of different fighters over the years. Bitter veterans. Fresh recruits. Disillusioned duelists. Young geniuses, old masters, and even some once in a generation prodigies. Adam had been one of those.

Even with her array of experience, she could say with absolute certainty that Jaune Arc was the worst she had ever witnessed. The sheer level of his incompetence was near comical. Absolutely nothing he did was remotely correct: not his movement, his approach, his strategy, his guard. It was simply not possible to be any more wrong.

How had someone so pathetic even make it into a school as prestigious as Beacon? Political favor? Or had someone mixed up his application with another? Actually, how could someone manage to be so _perfectly_ inept?

She couldn't muster even the slightest shred of surprise when he tripped and practically face planted into the nevermore As he fell to the ground with all the grace of a sack of lead, his spastic flailing dragged Crocea Mors across the nevermore's uninjured wing. Blake stared in shock as it disintegrated under the force, the nevermore's steel feathers melting like butter under a hot knife. How…? Had the fool managed to, against all odds, randomly find a weak point?

Jaune Arc was _impossibly_ lucky. There was simply _no_ way-

Or had she made a mistake? Had she been unreasonably harsh on him?

The crippled nevermore teetered on feet ill-suited for flat ground. Nonetheless, it remained upright, leaving nothing vulnerable to the probing Pyrrha. Its beak snapped furiously at Jaune, who responded by cowering behind his shield.

"Somebody help?" He shouted. "I, uh, might not be able to handle this. At least not quickly. I mean, if you want to wait around I'll be more than happy to demonstrate that this glorious hunk of manliness–"

Blake ignored the rest.

 _We need to actually kill it._

A deft snap of her wrist sent Gambol Shroud twirling around a nearby pillar. She pulled it taut, grimacing as her wounds flared in protest.

 _I_ really _want a better plan._

"Pyrrha!" she yelled. The champion needed only a glance before her eyes lit up in understanding. She sprinted directly at Blake, armored greaves beating a ruthless rhythm into the ground.

Then she jumped.

Gambol Shroud flexed underneath her weight, tearing at Blake's grip. The Faunus screamed as her wounds erupted into obliterating agony, but she held steady for tortured seconds as the ribbon stretched to slow Pyrrha's momentum. Right when Blake felt herself passing out, it snapped back into place, catapulting Pyrrha forward with a sharp crack.

Hurling a spear through a nevermore's eye while going fast enough to blur vision should have been nearly impossible.

Pyrrha hit it effortlessly.

Blake only saw the beginning of the grimm's disintegration before her world went completely black.

::-::-::

Glynda Goodwitch was absolutely furious.

She stalked down Beacon's halls, eyes narrowed in a severe glare, even by her standards. Students scrambled out of her path, but she didn't spare them a glance. Nobody complained. You did _not_ mess with an angry Goodwitch.

As the great mahogany doors of the headmaster's office loomed before her, she lashed out at them, throwing them inwards with a ear throbbing boom. Ozpin looked up from his desk, face set in his usual solemn gaze.

"Explain yourself." Glynda hissed.

"About what?" If he was off put by her violent entrance, he showed no sign of it.

"Perhaps about why there was a class five deathstalker and class six nevermore present at _initiation._ What could you _possibly_ be thinking?! Those grimm would have given full-fledged huntsmen trouble, let alone children!"

Ozpin stared at her in unblinking silence, one hand absently stirring a near-empty coffee mug. The movement drew Glynda's attention to his desk. Scattered papers lay strewn across its surface, some of them clearly damaged by fire, a few others torn to shreds. His scroll lay in plain sight, and Glynda knew that despite his unflappable demeanor, he had been watching initiation with the same rapt attention that she had.

"Initiation is dangerous, my dear." He finally said.

"That goes well beyond merely 'dangerous!'" Glynda growled. "Protocol demands initiation should never surpass class two. Last I checked, killing students was _not_ part of our job description!"

The stirring stopped. "And yet allowing them to die is."

Glynda froze, her burning anger exhausted in the sudden rush of icy guilt. She and Ozpin both knew what he meant. Not everyone, after all, survived initiation.

"That – but we can't–" she sputtered. She had excuses. That the students had to be pressured to work together, that it revealed those who would make strong leaders, that real life was dangerous and ugly and they should get used to it–

The words sounded hollow even to herself.

"We _could_ save them, Glynda," Ozpin corrected, eyes now focused on the dregs of coffee that he swirled around, and around, and around. "Those who fail initiation. The weak, the foolish, even the plain unlucky. We have the means. But we let them suffer the consequences, even if they die. Do you ever wonder why?"

She didn't respond. She had questioned, of course, agonized over it even, but never for long. The deaths of children she hardly knew was an inconsequential weight on her conscience compared to the many, many more who had died during or after her tutelage.

Faces you didn't know, after all, could not haunt you in the dead of sleepless nights.

"We do not save them because they must, at their core, understand that they will not be rescued. Huntsman are the final, ultimate line of defense, the light in the dark when all else has failed. They cannot expect aid. If they fail, there is no other hope. Those that cannot accept that should never hold the lives of others in their hands."

 _Better for them to die now than drag others with them later_.

"Huntsmen don't stay children for long, Glynda."

"All the same," she murmured, "perhaps we are greater monsters than the Grimm."

"We do what we must. Even if they – and we – need suffer for it."

It was a harsh reminder. She'd been excited and idealistic, once, convinced that she could save the world by raising the next generation. She'd been partially right. A few of them had lived. "You still have not addressed the unusual strength of the grimm, sir."

"I simply felt it would be an appropriate challenge." Ozpin looked directly at her, eyes probing her own. "Besides, they seem to have handled it quite effectively. A mere eight students, against two grimm meant to handle a few dozen more. Unprecedented."

"It is rather… unexpected." Glynda hesitantly offered. On the one hand, they had expected this year's class of recruits to be exceptional purely based off of their prior achievements. Pyrrha Nikos, Yang XiaoLong and Weiss Schnee in particular could each have been top of their class at any combat school.

On the other hand… some of the other students had a fair bit more _live experience._

"Is it indeed?" Ozpin mused. He stared at his mug once more. "I wonder."

 _How much does he know? Even worse, does he know something I don't?_

"Come, my dear," Ozpin said. He rose to his feet before striding to the door. She hastened to follow him. "I believe we have some students to congratulate."

::-::-::

The nevermore was still a partially cohesive corpse when twin whines drove Jaune's gaze skyward. A pair of bullheads cut through the air on a direct beeline for him and his newfound teammates. His eyes narrowed as they hovered above him before continuing into a slow descent. This hadn't been part of the briefing, initiation was supposed to end once they recovered the relics, so why…?

His gaze fell on Weiss. Crumpled on the ground and stained crimson, she cut a pathetic figure on the unyielding stone. Could the Schnee family have pressured Beacon into guarding their child? Doubtful. Everybody knew the danger involved in training to become a huntsman. Besides, the academy was so prestigious it was practically invulnerable.

The bullheads landed with a rattling thump, and a team of medical staff rushed out with stretchers and some sophisticated looking equipment he wasn't familiar with. As they surrounded Weiss, Blake, and Ren, he stood by and watched, uncertain of what else to do. A soft hand on his arm announced the presence of Pyrrha at his side. Her face was ashen as she stared at their injured classmates, and he felt her hand shaking even through the cloth of his clothing.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" she whispered.

Blake and Ren, almost certainly. Weiss? Probably not. "I, uh, I hope so."

Her voice broke. "This is all my fault."

Her fault? Hardly. If anything, it was _his_ fault, but that wasn't exactly something he would be losing sleep over. The Arc family honor did not demand that he save anybody who needed it, after all.

"Don't say that," he said, enveloping Pyrrha's hand with one of his own. "You were amazing! It's thanks to you we're alive at all. Not like me," he added with a tinge of bitterness he didn't feel.

"But I could have done so much more."

He had to agree. Given what he'd heard about her, Jaune Arc had expected more of Pyrrha Nikos. For all her skill against humans and faunus, she'd been nothing spectacular against the Grimm. Above average, to be sure, but not amazing.

He was saved from the need to respond by the clack of boots against stone. Professor Goodwitch approached them, green eyes hard. "Mister Arc. Miss Nikos," she said, with a nod at each of them respectively. He almost winced at the usage of his family name, but it would have been even stranger for her to address him informally. Pyrrha was unlikely to search for information on him, anyways.

"Congratulations on your success," Glynda continued. "I understand this is something of a breach in protocol, but get on the ships. We'll debrief back at Beacon."

"Ma'am," Pyrrha said. "I would like permission to stay with my partner. She was injured."

Glynda studied her carefully before giving a curt nod. "Granted, but stay out of the way."

"Understood. Thank you."

When the redhead had gone, Glynda turned back to Jaune. "And what about you, Mister Arc? Would you like to accompany your partner as well?"

He shook his head. "I'm not even sure where my partner is," he admitted with a rueful smile. "Is she, uh, okay?"

"Who is your partner?"

"Oh, sorry, it'd probably help to know that, huh? Ruby. Err, that's her name. Ruby Rose."

Glynda beckoned toward the further bullhead. "She's already on board that one." She cast a furtive glance around to make sure nobody was within earshot before leaning in. "Watch out for her. She eliminated a class six deathstalker with only minor assistance. I'll look into her records and notify you of anything I find."

"Thank you, professor," Jaune declared loudly, as if she had merely been relaying him normal orders. "I'll go see the headmaster once I'm back at Beacon."

He'd had his suspicions even before initiation. Somebody entering Beacon a full two years early was practically unheard of. Fortuitous, then, that he was in the perfect position to keep an eye on her.

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee awoke to the blinding white glare of an infirmary and piercing, burning pain that permeated her entire body.

Where was she? What had happened?

 _The facts, Weiss. Start with the facts._

She was alive. That was a good place to start. Her survival was nothing short of a miracle – the nevermore had punched multiple feathers clean through her. Immediate medical attention, aura, and luck would have all been needed to keep her alive. She was at Beacon, then, which meant that her classmates had won and they had cleared initiation.

Oum, everything hurt. Aura, unfortunately, did not help with pain.

"Hey there, Weiss-cream," said an irritatingly bright and cheery voice. "How you feelin?"

The heiress rolled her vision to the side. Yang sat in a chair next to her bed, but the blonde looked every bit as bad as Weiss felt – swathed in so many bandages that Weiss could only make out half her face. Perhaps if Yang wasn't so unbelievably _irritating,_ she could muster up some sympathy.

"If you call me that ever again, I swear I will hurt you. Badly."

Yang gave no sign she had heard. "Actually, I doubt you can feel anything at all with the amount of painkillers they pumped into you. I told them there was no way you were three hundred pounds, but no one trusts me around here. I wonder why?"

She could feel _plenty_ , thank you very much. If this was _with_ painkillers, she couldn't even imagine how it would feel without –

Wait…

"Three – _excuse_ me?!"

"I mean, you're not really _that_ big."

"You are unquestionably the most insufferable person I've ever met." Actually, she knew Ruby. Maybe the second most insufferable, then. Must be a family thing.

"Anyways," Yang continued cheerily, "hope you get better, seeing as how we're partners and all. I can't really work that well with a corpse. Not that I've tried before. Ugh."

"Is monologuing to yourself a common pastime or am I simply exceptionally unlucky?"

"Oh, we beat the deathstalker, in case you couldn't tell," Yang continued. "Ruby and I. It was… well, I'll tell you later. You'll want the full story anyways.

Weiss's blood turned to ice. For only the two of them to kill a deathstalker, there was no way that Ruby had been holding back. Probably hadn't even occurred to her with how upset she had been about Yang. Understandably too.

It should have been _obvious_ the younger girl was unstable, despite her claims to the contrary.

Oh, right, still had to respond to Yang.

"Yang XiaoLong demonstrating _patience_? That settles it. I'm dreaming." Which would also explain why the other girl was ignoring everything she said.

"Did better than you did against the nevermore though. How'd it feel being a human pincushion?"

Weiss couldn't stop the burning that flew to her cheeks. Her plan would have worked flawlessly against any _normal_ nevermore, so it was hardly her fault that they'd gone up against an exceptional one! "That – that's hardly–"

"You should really hurry and wake up. Must be kinda boring just lying there," Yang mused. "I mean, I'm already going crazy and at least I can move around a little."

"I'm stuck in a nightmare where I am forced to listen to the rambling of a blathering idiot who is apparently unable to hear me. Some boredom sounds _lovely,"_ Weiss growled.

"Ouch. That's harsh, Weiss-cream," Yang mourned, one hand flying to her heart in dramatic mock offense. "I'm a delicate young maiden, you know."

"So you _can_ hear me!" Weiss growled.

"Well duh," Yang said. "Just messing with you. How you feelin? Wait, I asked that already."

"I hate you."

::-::-::

Ruby fidgeted from side to side, silver eyes cast nervously upwards at the imposing door to the headmaster's office.

"We – we did well, right? We're not in trouble, are we?" she asked the blonde haired boy beside her.

Jaune glanced at her uncertainly. "I, uh, I think so? I mean, we won. And nobody died. So that's good?"

"But we didn't get any relics," Ruby protested. "And everyone else was injured." She played with the hem of her skirt, teeth worrying at her bottom lip, before whipping around to face Jaune fully. He took a step backward in surprise as she leaned towards him and peered up at him through her lashes, silver eyes wide. "Were we supposed to be injured as well? Do you think we're in trouble for that?"

"What? No!" Jaune exclaimed. "Why would they want us to be injured?"

She leaned even closer, so close that she rested against his chest like a soft, timid weight. "Then why are we the only two here? Why are we in trouble?"

"We're not in trouble!" Jaune declared, but his words were undermined by subsequent hesitation. "I think. Probably. Maybe."

The door swung open, revealing the stern countenance of headmaster Ozpin. His normally composed image was marred by bloodshot eyes, and he leaned on his cane with uncharacteristic weariness. He beckoned them to enter, and they obeyed reluctantly.

"Don't worry," he said, "you're not in trouble." His mouth quirked upwards in a half smile. "We generally try to _encourage_ not-being-injured instead of punish it."

Jaune nudged Ruby, who glared at him indignantly. "Told ya we weren't in trouble," he said. She stuck her tongue out at him, but flushed pink when Ozpin chuckled.

"If anything, both of you have demonstrated exemplary performance on the battlefield. Your group of eight is among some of the most promising recruits in recent history."

Neither of them knew what to say.

"Oh," Ruby finally said, voice small. "Thanks. For the compliment, I mean. Not us being good. Although that's true. Wait, it was a compliment, right?"

"Indeed it was, Miss Rose," Ozpin said with another chuckle. "And that is why we are speaking right now. Normally, teams are selected through the drawing of matching relics, but given your exceptional capabilities I chose to assign yours. You two will join with Miss Blake Belladonna and Miss Pyrrha Nikos, under team leader Mister Jaune Arc."

" _Me_?!" Jaune squawked. "Wait, why me? Ruby's a way better fighter. Make her leader!"

"No! You can't do that!" Ruby blurted. "I'm the youngest. And the boy should lead!"

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

"It – it – I don't know! Something!"

"Although we may not share the same reasoning," Ozpin interrupted with a gentle smile, "I agree with Miss Rose. Combat ability is not the only criteria for a leader. Indeed, I often find that it has little influence at all." He reached out and grasped Jaune's shoulder, forcing the younger man to meet his gaze. "I stand by my decision. You will be team leader, Mister Arc."

"Yes sir." Jaune acquiesced with palpable reluctance. "I'll do my best."

"Not good enough, Mister Arc," Ozpin corrected. "You must _succeed_. If your best is not enough, surpass it."

"No pressure," Jaune grumbled.

"Congratulations, Jaune!" Ruby chirped. she wrapped him in an enthusiastic hug, silver eyes flashing with joy. "You'll do great!"

"This is a mistake," Jaune mourned. "A giant, whopping mistake."

::-::-::

If Ruby Rose was perfectly honest, she would have to admit she was a little disappointed. She'd gone after Jaune Arc with all her substantial charm, and he hadn't even been phased.

Innocent, cute, uncertain, naive – these images were weapons to be used, and she was more than familiar with all of them. People expected a menacing seductress like Cinder to be a threat. A dorky fifteen year old? Not so much.

It'd all been planned. Her whole conversation with Jaune in front of the headmaster's office. The looks, how she positioned her body, when and how to touch, all of it screamed _look at me, I'm cute and scared, you should protect me._

She could make excuses for her behavior, of course. That charmed people were easy allies, for example, or that it was necessary to cement her school image and help counteract her slip up during initiation, but the truth was that it was simply _fun_. She wasn't smart like Weiss, couldn't plan ten or twenty steps ahead, but this? This was where she could outsmart even the best and the brightest.

But in any case, her reasons were meaningless. He either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared. Either way, she'd lost.

And Ruby Rose _hated_ losing.

 **A/N:**

Half the stuff that makes it into the story wasn't even planned. The whims of the characters are powerful indeed.

Since it's been awhile since I've done anything RWBY related, my lore knowledge is kinda rusty. Please call me out on any mistakes and I'll fix them ASAP. The ones that aren't changed by AU standing, anyways.

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad to see people are enjoying the story. No four month break for this chapter either. Heh heh.

Now what was I planning again?


	10. Due Diligence I

**Chapter 10**

 _ **Due Diligence I**_

There were two things Ruby Rose immediately realized she would hate about sharing a room with Jaune. The first was that he woke up at an absolutely ungodly hour of the morning.

The second was that there was no. blasted. room. _anywhere._

Their tiny room – if you could even call it that, it was more like a cell – was crammed wall to wall with four spartan beds and an equal number of rudimentary desks, hardly more than generally smooth blocks of wood on top of generally sturdy thinner blocks of wood. They didn't even have _chairs_.

Whatever. Remodeling could come later. If Beacon gave them time to do it, at least.

After her meeting with Ozpin (she'd been so close – but there was absolutely no way she would be able to kill him in her current state), she'd taken to wandering the halls, head spinning with… well, a lot, really. By the time she stumbled into her new quarters in the dead of night, her partner was already long asleep.

She'd dragged herself into the bathroom, stumbled into her pajamas, and collapsed into the nearest bed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Even as tired as she was, sleep evaded her. When your work typically involved late night after late night, old habits died hard. By the time sleep finally overtook her, the first rays of sunlight were already peeking over the horizon.

She twitched awake only moments later at the sound of faint rustling in the bed next to hers. A bleary glance out the window told her that next to no time had passed; the sun was no higher in the sky than before.

"Sorry," came the apologetic voice of Jaune. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She grunted something halfway between "go away," and "why are you awake you inhuman lunatic" before slamming her eyes shut. People were _not_ meant to be moving at this time of night. Day? Night? Unholy, either way.

Jaune left, the door creaking slightly to signal his exit, leaving her alone with only the rising sun to watch her. Just before consciousness fled her, it occurred to her that the other partnership of her team had yet to arrive.

 _They're still probably in medbay. Hopefully they're ok._

After all, it would _really_ throw a wrench in the works to have to change teams already.

::-::-::

He hadn't gotten much rest, but Jaune Arc rose with the sun anyways, just as he had for every day in his entire memory. Even if he would have preferred to sleep in, his body had immediately propelled him to alertness at the first sign of light.

He rose as quietly as possible out of consideration for his sleeping partner, but ultimately his efforts were meaningless – she woke anyways, even if only barely. He mumbled a hasty apology, but filed her reaction away for future reference. She was a very, very light sleeper, and the speed and violence with which she had awoken spoke of familiarity with reacting to unseen danger. He didn't miss the way her eyes had snapped open and her hand had rushed under her pillow before she had seen him and relaxed. Even for a Beacon student, it was unusual behavior.

As he left, his musings about his partner were replaced with the familiar routine of his morning exercise. While he would undoubtedly have combat–focused classes later, it would be a disgrace to his family to be lax with his own discipline.

The need to stay hidden presented a complication, but the early hour offered more hiding places than would otherwise be possible. By the time most of his fellow students were preparing for the upcoming day, he had already completed a brisk run, his strength building exercises, and most of his sword forms. It was regrettable that the rest could not be finished, but, well, sacrifices were inevitable.

He went for a shower to wash the sweat he had worked up from his routine, then for a hearty breakfast. Doing so left him plenty of time to plan his schedule for the rest of the day. As an opportunity to recover from the rigors of initiation, Beacon's students were given the day off. It would be one of the few opportunities for free time they would receive. While he had little doubt his peers would squander their time in foolish trivialities, he had some questions that needed answering.

Once he was finished with his meal, he took to the halls. It took him only a few minutes to find his target.

"Professor!" he called as he spotted the desired head of blonde hair. Professor Glynda turned at his voice, mouth already down turned in disapproval.

"Mister Arc," she greeted coolly. "Please refrain from yelling in the halls. It's far too early for such noise."

"Right. Sorry, professor," he apologized with only a modicum of sincerity. "I was, ah, hoping you could help me with a problem?"

"What is it?" She asked, naked caution marking every word. No doubt she regularly dealt with "problems." Maybe even a few of them actually mattered.

Jaune glanced meaningfully at the people who were starting to stream through the open halls. "It's kind of personal."

"Personal…?" Glynda mused, but then her eyes lit with understanding. "I see. Very well. Come to my office, then."

He followed her through the winding maze of passages (the brief familiarity he had with them was insufficient. He'd have to memorize them as soon as possible – perhaps a task for the rest of the day) to a nondescript brown door in the middle of the faculty wing. When she opened the door and beckoned for him to enter, he did so without hesitation.

The interior was very much what he would have expected from a professor of Glynda's temperament. A perfectly ordered desk with organized stacks of papers occupied one corner, a humorous contrast to the sprawling disaster that was Ozpin's. A stacked bookshelf stood opposite. Jaune noticed the tomes it held were organized alphabetically.

Glynda took a seat at her desk, then waved her wand toward the door. Jaune couldn't see the resulting wave of power that washed over him, but he certainly felt it. It set his teeth on edge.

"A silencing spell," Glynda explained. "It requires some unorthodox use of dust, but I assure you it's very effective. Now, how can I help you? I assume you didn't require my attention for small talk."

"There are some students that I need information on," Jaune cut straight to the point. "The dossiers you provided me at the start of the year were helpful, but there are some questions that they were unable to address."

Glynda winced at his request. "While I appreciate the dedication you have demonstrated thus far, please understand I am… limited in what I can offer you. Faculty is held to a very high standard regarding student privacy, and the information I have given you, shallow as it may seem, is already well past the normal bounds of acceptability."

It was unfortunate, but understandable. Besides, uncooperative clients were a regular factor of the Arc family business. "I only need information for a few of them. Whatever you can give me."

She said nothing for a long moment. "Which ones?"

It wasn't agreement, but it was a step. "Ruby Rose, Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee, Yang XiaoLong and Pyrrha Nikos," Jaune rattled off. "Especially Ruby Rose and Blake Belladonna."

While all of seven of the other members of his makeshift group had been unusually powerful, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie had set off the least flags in his mind. Both of them were within strength parameters he would have expected of a first year Beacon student, albeit on the stronger end, and neither had performed any action that roused his suspicion. Yang, on the other hand, had been exceptionally powerful, and Weiss had demonstrated an exceptional head for combat tactics under pressure, but both of them had fairly comprehensive dossiers that fit his observations. Information on them would be helpful but not strictly necessary. The last three, however…

Pyrrha Nikos stood out simply because it should _not_ be possible for a student of her age to be so skilled. While her raw power couldn't compare to juggernauts like Yang or Nora, the finesse with which she handled herself wouldn't be out of place on a fully trained huntress. Jaune acknowledged there was a distinct possibility that if he dueled her, even at his full ability he would find himself outmatched. Even so, of the three that he had mentally listed as "high priority," she was the lowest. Her status as a public celebrity left him with many, many sources to peruse at his leisure.

Blake Belladonna stood out for the opposite reason. Her dossier had contained almost nothing, only a brief summary of her physical statistics. While her combat ability had been decent but nothing spectacular, she was an absolute unknown, and bodyguards learned very quickly to distrust mystery. Obviously, she had something to hide. The only question is why Beacon would be willing to aid her specifically. Why was she the exception?

As for Ruby Rose… Oum, but what warning flag did she _not_ trigger.

"I'll do what I can. That's all I can promise," Glynda said, still clearly hesitant. "I'm sorry, I know it makes your job harder, but I can't just throw aside my integrity as an instructor. Anything I give you will come from outside of Beacon."

For somebody as structured as Glynda, even agreeing to that much was a monumental favor. "Thank you, professor. Anything you can offer will be greatly appreciated."

"One more thing, Mister Arc," she interrupted before Jaune could leave. "I can inform you right now that you will receive absolutely nothing regarding Miss Belladonna."

Well if that wasn't suspicious, he didn't know what was. "May I ask why?"

She shook her head. "I'm not at liberty to say."

Jaune bowed in response. "Understood. Good day, professor."

When the door clicked shut behind him, he cursed softly. Well, this was where he earned his paycheck.

::-::-::

Weiss Schnee was going absolutely insane.

The first reason was that she was still badly injured enough to prevent her from moving from the medbay bed, but not enough to grant her the peace of unconsciousness. The result?

She was bored out of her mind.

The second reason?

Yang XiaoLong, the girl making her best run to dethrone Ruby as the most irritating person Weiss knew, would not stop snoring.

And she was faking it. 100% faking it. There was no way anybody could be so unbelievably, window rattling, earth shaking, defy–all–human–limits _loud_.

Their particular ward was bereft of any other people. Weiss wished she could leave as well.

"I know you're faking it," she snapped when she could bear no more. "So you can go ahead and shut up now."

The snoring stopped instantly. "Aww, look at you," Yang cooed. "You know me so well already."

"Not well enough," Weiss countered. "You still owe me answers."

Yang sat up in the bed she occupied adjacent to Weiss, purple eyes uncharacteristically solemn. She studied the heiress with an unashamed intensity, but Weiss glared right back. She would not be cowed.

"I guess I do," Yang acknowledged. "Kind of regret promising you them." She laughed bitterly. "Alright, now's as good a time as any. What do you want to know?"

Weiss blinked in surprise, train of thought temporarily derailed by the mood whiplash. It took her a moment to settle on a question. "How do you and Ruby know each other? I've never seen her so upset."

"Already such good friends with her?" Yang teased. "I thought you two just met."

Weiss heart made a terrified leap into her throat. Of all the dumb mistakes – she blamed the painkillers. It had to be the painkillers. "She's rather insistent," she said, desperately praying Yang would accept the excuse.

"Yeah. I guess she is." The other girl mused with absent minded melancholy.

Whew. Good, took the attention off her slip. "Answer the question. How do you two know each other?"

"So demanding," Yang groused. "Fine. We're… we're sisters."

Weiss knew that, of course. But she wasn't _supposed_ to. "You're what?"

"Sisters. Can't you tell?" Yang admonished. "We're the spitting image of each other."

"The only similarity, physical or otherwise, that you two share is that you're the most annoying people I know."

The blonde chuckled. "We're half sisters, actually. Same father, different mothers. Long story, but basically stuff happened and my mom left, and dad remarried. I don't really remember her."

Despite herself, Weiss felt a pang of sympathy. Yang hid it well, but she was certain that the other girl bore no small amount of hurt about her abandonment. "How was it? Living with Ruby's mom?"

"Honestly? Amazing. She was super–mom. Slayer of Grimm and baker of cookies." Yang stopped for a long moment, lost in memories. When she resumed, the words were halting. "I don't know how much more I should say. A lot of this… you should really hear it from Ruby."

Normally, Weiss would be relieved to hear those words. Yang XiaoLong reluctant to speak? Normally a blessing. Now? Hardly. "Tell me your side of the story, at least. Why does Ruby seem to hate you?"

Yang shot her a wry grin. "Awfully intrusive for such a new friend, aren't you?" Before Weiss could offer protest, she spoke again. "It's fine. We're partners now, and it'd feel good to get this off my chest. Haven't told anyone before." Purple eyes flashed a dangerous warning. "Don't make me regret telling you."

"I won't. I swear." _Just hurry up and spit it out. I've been waiting way too long to hear this._

"You don't seem like the type anyways, and believe it or not I'm pretty good at reading people." Yang lay back down, breaking eye contact with Weiss in favor of staring at the ceiling. "Ruby and I were close when we were kids. Really close. But one day, she – Ruby's mom – died on a mission, and everything just fell apart."

Weiss said nothing, so Yang continued her monologue.

"I was… I don't know. Young. Maybe nine or ten? Somewhere around there. Dad couldn't handle it. Started drinking a lot. Never beat us or anything, though. He barely noticed us. Kinda just left us to fend for ourselves."

Weiss's stomach sank as she began to put the pieces together.

"Anyways," Yang said, "I'm the older sister, right? So it fell to me to take care of Ruby. Make sure she had food, got to school, had someone to talk to and comfort her, everything. Had to be a good mom on top of being a good daughter, basically, because I had to watch out for dad too. Make sure he didn't just up and die on us. Ruby was too young to really get what was going on. All her questions, her constant clinginess, the stress, dad's depression, it all got to me. Eventually I… I couldn't take it anymore."

"You ran," Weiss whispered.

Yang let loose a bark of empty laughter. "Yup. You got it. Just ditched and didn't look back. Never returned home. Couldn't bring myself to."

"What did you do afterwards?" Weiss asked, afraid that _do you regret it_ would be too much.

"School, kind of. Spent some time in huntress prep schools, but I spent most of it just fighting. Gang warfare, underground prize fights, all that stuff. Easily made enough money to live." She grinned, pride lending her a bit of energy. "If you find the right places and you're strong, people don't ask questions. I was really strong even then. My fame kind of got out of hand, because people started coming after me. Challengers at first, then assassins, but eventually got a Beacon recruiter at my doorstep. I sure didn't make it in through good grades." She shrugged. "Guess they didn't care about my past."

Weiss suspected that there was a whole lot more that went into that "eventually," but she didn't push further. Yang had already given her far more than she had expected. Ruby hadn't talked much about her older sister, and Weiss hadn't ever known what to think. The truth had been a lot more convoluted than she had expected.

Really, she shouldn't care. The absolute mess of a relationship between her two partners – the old one and the new one – wasn't her business. It would be easy to ignore it and focus on her current mission.

But she couldn't just let it go. It didn't feel right, for whatever reason.

"Thanks for telling me," she said.

Yang shrugged. "Like I said, don't make me regret it. Anything else you want to know?"

"How," Weiss began, but cut herself off. She wracked her brain for a more diplomatic way to phrase her next question, but despite all the years of negotiation and etiquette training she had received, nothing came to mind. It was always harder with people you knew. "How do you feel about Ruby now?"

"Yeesh, Weiss–cream. Not pulling your punches," Yang said with a rueful half–grin. "I don't know. I really don't. It's… very complicated. Definitely didn't expect to meet her again like this."

"I can imagine," Weiss commented drily. "Alright, easier question. What happened with the deathstalker? Ruby abandoned us to help you."

Yang let loose a long, low whistle. "Oh boy. How to start…"

::-::-::

 _They hadn't seen each other in seven, almost eight years. A lot could change, especially when the time included a transition from childhood to becoming a young adult._

 _Even so, never in her wildest dreams would Yang have predicted the change that would befall her little sister._

 _She remembered a shy, innocent, adoring girl. Remembered how Ruby followed her almost everywhere, cried when she was separated, and never let go of the stuffed scythe that Uncle Qrow had given her for her fourth birthday (Summer had been very displeased, but Uncle Qrow never cared much)._

 _All traces of that girl were gone. In its place? A machine. A monster. A weapon come to life. Yang had seen a lot of fighters over her years, far more than anybody her age had any right to. The good ones were like her. Hardened fighters, unnerved by little, comfortable in everything from a duel to a full out brawl. In their own way, they were the best of the best, survivors of a hundred battles._

 _A minuscule few, however, transcended even beyond that. It wasn't anything obvious. There was no physical sign she could point to, no personality trait they shared, no life experience or training method. But in the chaos of battle, they all became something else entirely. An entire existence devoted with laser focus to a single purpose: their opponent's death. Not out of any malice or hatred, but simply because that purpose was the essence of their existence. It was as indivisible from them as the need to breathe or eat._

 _Maybe she was crazy. Maybe normal people couldn't distinguish anything unusual. But she could. And they scared her witless._

 _She never expected Ruby would be one of them._

 _Even in her dazed state, Yang couldn't arrest her gaze from her little sister's lethal dance with the armored scorpion that towered over her. It was as mesmerizing as any art form. She dashed in and out of range, scythe painting a blurred arc of blood red in a sea of rose petals. Yang was used to speed, had seen (and been in) enough fights to see some of the fastest fighters that Remnant held. She herself was no slouch; in the underground rings, they'd called her 'Typhoon' for a reason. But Ruby wasn't just fast. She was perfectly controlled, as measured and sharp as any masterfully crafted blade._

 _Where did she even learn to fight like that? You couldn't teach yourself that style, not like Yang had taught herself._

 _What had Ruby been doing?_

 _::-::-::_

 _For all her immaculate skill, The Red One hadn't inflicted any more noticeable damage on the deathstalker. It skittered around her attacks with instinct–driven caution, covering its weak points behind the looming threat of its stinger. The blows that she managed to land fell against the thickest chitin, leaving jagged furrows but little else._

 _The stalemate could have dragged on, but The Red One's patience dissolved quickly. Her mounting frustration became readily apparent as she pushed distance and position on the grimm with rapidly escalating aggression. She extended further and further forward with each attack, heedless of the danger she put herself in._

 _Her inhuman speed and reflexes kept her out of harm's way for a few exchanges. It didn't last._

 _Normally, the Grimm were little more than savage beasts. The depth of their tactics rarely surpassed 'run at the enemy in groups instead of alone.' What made the truly dangerous grimm, the ancient ones, so terrifying was that they planned, they maneuvered, they adapted. And this deathstalker was very ancient indeed._

 _When The Red One sprang away after a failed attack, it readied itself. She dashed forward immediately, leaving no time for it to recover, just as she always had. Every other time she had done so it had fallen back to maintain its defensive stance. This time, it rushed to meet her._

 _The Red Maw lashed out with hungry fangs. Her razor blade cleaved straight through one of the deathstalker's legs like it was a flimsy paper screen. This was acceptable. It had anticipated this outcome._

 _The loss of one leg did not slow its momentum, nor did it throw it off balance. The deathstalker saw her silver eyes widen in shock and knew it had won. Committed as she was to her attack, she had no recourse for escape. Nearly one thousand pounds of armored grimm met barely one hundred pounds of human girl with all the force of a speeding car. She was bowled over in a sprawling heap, a hopeless tangle of limbs and scythe. Through some miracle she kept hold of her weapon without cutting herself, but it was ultimately irrelevant. It was too close for such a weapon to be useful._

 _The deathstalker readied its stinger. There was no moment of preamble or hesitation, no celebration. Only a fraction of a second to aim before death descended._

 _The point fell, the coat of of translucent toxins knifing through the air._

 _It was smashed aside._

 _Hair Like Fire stood on shaking legs, bent almost double. Her chest heaved with obvious exertion as she fought to drag air into her failing lungs, but her gauntlets proclaimed proud defiance. They were what had diverted the killing blow. The deathstalker yanked its prized weapon out of the shattered ground as The Red One struggled to her feet. No matter. Two crippled girls would do little against it._

" _Ruby!" Hair Like Fire screamed. The two girls shared a brief glance, but this meant nothing. They could not communicate without words. The deathstalker knew this. The Red One raised her blade. It was useless. The weapon had only managed to pierce its armor because the girl had thrown her substantial speed into it. At close range, a standstill, and barely managing to stay upright? She would be lucky to even scratch its armor._

 _Its prized weapon fell once more._

 _The Red One lept to meet it in an unpredicted act of desperation, gleaming scythe streaming aside her. Why would she do that? It was futile–_

 _With a mighty cry, Hair Like Fire smashed one of her gauntlets into the extended head of The Red Maw._

 _Like sanguine lightning from a clear sky, The Red Maw blazed through the air, yanking The Red One into an uncontrolled spin. The blade slashed straight through its prized weapon with unprecedented force, sending the massive point spiraling into the air, its previously impervious armor rendered useless against the power of the combined attack._

 _For the first time in living memory, the deathstalker knew fear._

 _It skittered backward, but its doom was sealed. Its prized weapon fell once more towards the earth. The Red One landed, plucked it out of the air with the crook of The Red Maw, and lobbed it in a gentle arc towards Hair Like Fire._

 _Hair Like Fire jumped forward, legs drawing power from some unseen reserve. She stretched both hands behind her head, almost to the breaking point, before spiking its prized weapon straight downwards with an earthshaking scream. The golden point spiraled through the air like the world's largest bullet._

 _It obliterated the deathstalker's head like a bulldozer over a rotten melon before continuing on, and by the time it halted there was very little left to disintegrate into ebony powder._

 _::-::-::_

"Sweet Grimm–spawn," Weiss swore breathlessly. "I was wondering how you managed to take it out without Nora. That level of coordination doesn't even sound possible."

"Yeah," Yang preened. "Not bad for absolutely no planning whatsoever. Do you think it's genetic?"

"Maybe latent sister power? Certainly can't be from all the time you've spent together." Weiss drove mercilessly. Yang winced, previous arrogance popped like a balloon.

"That's still a sore spot, Weiss–cream."

Weiss sighed. "You've got a great opportunity to fix it, you know."

There was no response.

"What happened after?" Weiss said once she realized her partner would speak no further.

"Not much. I collapsed. Ruby kind of just sat there. We stayed like that until the bullhead came to pick us up."

Weiss knew she was running a risk by pushing her partner so hard. Demand too much or harass too far, and she could turn Yang against her, severely jeopardizing the dynamic of her new team. She'd been lucky so far – Yang was exceptionally good natured, and there was no reason for her to push even further.

Except there was, and now she knew why she couldn't let the matter rest. Ruby would never admit it, but her performance since meeting Yang again had been defined by unprecedented volatility. She was already something of a loose cannon normally, but now? Uncontrolled to the point of ineffectiveness.

 _You owe me so much more than you realize, you little brat._

She was running risk after risk for an old partner who would never realize it. But Weiss was a professional. Her job was to enable the little red assassin to operate at the best of her ability. Recognition didn't factor anywhere into that.

And maybe – just maybe – she cared a little bit more for the other girl than just as an operator wielding an asset. Maybe Ruby was one of her only friends (as much of a stretch as that term may be), just as she knew the same was true for the diminutive assassin. Maybe that meant something to her.

And maybe – just maybe – pushing the sisters to reconcile wouldn't be as much of a risk as one might expect. She didn't know Yang that well, admittedly. But she was so confident in her prediction that she would have bet a substantial amount of lien.

Weiss was convinced that the blonde wanted her sister back.

 **A/N:**

Internal continuity is a nightmare… I constantly forget who knows what about everybody else and what I said in earlier chapters.

I'm struggling with finding a balance between realism and fantasy. The RWBY world, after all, is a well constructed fiction, but at the same time I like there to be logic and relatability to how characters behave. My current rule of thumb is that character interactions, dialogue, and development should be more or less believable, if not 100% realistic. Anything to do with combat or other stuff is open to… embellishment. Occasionally chuuni embellishment. Heh heh. I make no apologies. (Ok maybe a few half hearted ones)

I'm also convinced Neo's style combined with Ruby's skills would be absolutely terrifying.

Thanks for the reviews everyone. Hope you enjoyed it. I try to make extra effort to address anything that you guys bring up in them. They're both helpful and encouraging.


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